


You and Me, Together Forever

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (and daishou's a jealous creep ahaha), (iwaoi bokuaka kagehina), Aged-Up Character(s), Background Relationships, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Mentions of Past Kenhina, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: Years after college, Kenma and Kuro face the ups and downs of their new relationship, growing closer and stronger than ever before.





	You and Me, Together Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurigae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurigae/gifts).



> a piece commissioned by the wonderful and beautiful Katrin~ she wanted me to expand on the story she commissioned me to write last year ([Our Hearts Still Beat the Same](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8053702)), and although she only paid me for 10k, this quickly grew out of hand . . .
> 
> sorry not sorry! I hope you enjoy the domestic kurokens~ 
> 
> ((Note: You don't need to read the previous fic to understand this one! 
> 
> All you really need to know is Kuro's roommate is Daishou and Kenma dated Hinata after high school, but Kuro didn't know Kenma was gay until they reconnected years after college. That was when Kuro confessed. Kenma works for a new up-and-coming gaming company, and Kuro works in advertising.
> 
> Oh, and Kenma has a cat named Kuro.))

 

 

 

i wanna live forever  
forever in your heart  
and we'll always be together  
from the end to the start

\-- marina & the diamonds, "immortal"

 

* * *

 

 

 

Staying up late and sleeping in until noon is Kenma’s usual routine, so the fact that he wakes as the sun is rising is rather odd. What's even stranger is that when he squints open his eyes, sleep clinging to the corners of them, he doesn't recognize the room he's in. There's a warm body against his back, but it's not Kuro. Well, it _is_ Kuro, Kenma realizes, just not the Kuro he was expecting. His cat Kuro is at home, probably sleeping on top of Kenma's pillow in his absence.

 _This_ Kuro has his arm wrapped around Kenma's waist, and his face is nuzzled against the back of Kenma's head. It'd be too hot except for the fact that they're both sans clothes, and it's when Kenma notices this that he remembers where he is and why he's there.

His face grows warm, and he buries it deeper into the pillow. The shift seems to wake Kuro behind him, because he yawns and stretches slightly against Kenma's back. He chuckles then, low and husky from sleep.

"Well, good morning~"

Kenma snorts softly. "Are you talking to me or your boner?" He can feel it pressing against the small of his back, not very inconspicuously.

"I'm sleeping beside a beautiful man, and you expect me to _not_ have a boner when I wake up?"

Kenma's face feels hot again, and he elbows Kuro gently in the stomach. "Shut up."

Kuro's laugh ruffles Kenma's hair, and his hand moves to Kenma's hip, stroking it slowly with his fingertips. "Do you think we could . . .?"

Kenma picks up his phone, squinting at the time. "Too early," he huffs, setting it back down. He just wants to fall asleep again, knowing he'll probably be up late coding that night. He needs all the rest he can get.

Kuro's quiet for a moment before he clears his throat awkwardly. "Uh, then . . . could I . . . ?"

He sounds flustered, and it's cuter than when he was trying to flirt, so Kenma decides to relent. "Fine," he says around a yawn. "But I'm going back to sleep."

He closes his eyes again, as Kuro kisses his shoulder lightly, reaching across him to where they left the lube on the side table last night. Kenma settles deeper into the mattress, as he hears the click of the cap.

He dozes lightly, dimly aware of Kuroo's hot breath against his ear, his hand gripping his thigh, as he presses his legs together. He fucks Kenma's thighs slowly, slipping in and out between them with ease, thanks to the lube. Kenma can hear Kuro's stifled groans, as he tries to be quiet. The lube rubs off on Kenma's skin, making it feel sticky, especially when Kuro starts trailing pre-cum between his thighs.

"Hah, _Kenma_ ," Kuro gasps softly.

Kenma murmurs something indistinct back. There's too much going on for him to fall asleep fully, but he hovers on the edge of consciousness, the feel of Kuro surrounding him. Kuro's thrusts become erratic, quickening in short, hard jerks, jostling Kenma awake. He grunts in annoyance, but Kuro's already coming, hot and wet against his skin. Settling then, Kuro pulls away with a brief kiss behind Kenma's ear.

"This just makes it harder to get up and ready for work," he complains with a lusty sigh.

"Sucks to be you," Kenma mutters, rubbing his legs together slightly, the feel of lube and cum between them quickly growing uncomfortable.

"Do you want the shower first or are you going to sleep some more?"

Kenma considers. He doesn't want to get out of bed yet, but he also doesn't want to fall asleep in a mess like this. Sighing, he rolls off the bed and grabs one of Kuro's shirts from a pile of clothes on his desk chair. He pulls it on over his head, before shuffling out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

The warm water feels amazing, and he stands with his forehead pressed against the tile to close his eyes for a few minutes. Then he washes and rinses, guessing he can always take a nap back at his own apartment later. He yanks a comb through his hair haphazardly, before throwing Kuro's shirt back on and stepping out of the bathroom. Kuro gives him a faint grin as he passes.

"Help yourself to anything in the kitchen," he says, before shutting the bathroom door.

Kenma stifles another yawn, not entirely sure what he's hungry for, but guessing he can make something for Kuro to take to work. Isn't that what couples do for each other?

He's in the middle of fixing some vegetables to put in Kuro's rice, when he senses someone move behind him. A cool, damp hand presses against his thigh, slipping slowly up under the hem of Kuro's shirt, as warm breath caresses Kenma's ear. He shivers, leaning back slightly against a firm chest.

 _That was a quick shower,_ he thinks, before he frowns. _Wait . . ._

"This is a good look on you, Kozume," a voice that is very much _not_ Kuro's whispers in his ear.

Kenma spins around, punching Daishou Suguru in the chest more on instinct than anything else. His heart pounds rapidly, as Daishou wheezes, hand pressed to his sternum, and stumbles back a step.

"Geez, it was a compliment," Daishou complains. "No need to get all violent."

Kenma scowls at him, remembering now that Kuro mentioned rooming with Daishou. How had he forgotten?

And how had he not realized that it was Daishou touching him? That was a more sobering question. Although he and Kuro have only been dating for two weeks, shouldn't Kenma know his touch by now? Shouldn't he recognize his presence?

"Fuck off," he snaps, gripping the knife he'd been using to cut the vegetables. Daishou's lucky Kenma set it down when he touched him. (He shudders inwardly at the memory of Daishou's clammy hand against his skin.)

"Is that any way to greet your old high school rival?" Daishou asks, straightening now and smirking. "When Kuro said he'd gotten together with an old friend of his, I should've expected it to be you, but I had no idea." He looks Kenma up and down, his gaze lingering on Kenma's bare legs and the open gap at his neck where the color of Kuro's shirt has slipped forward. "You've really grown up."

Kenma tightens his grip on the knife.

"Ugh, Daishou, go away," Kuro complains, as he steps into the kitchen. His hair is damp, slicked back in some semblance of style, though already it's starting to come loose into its normal state of disarray. He's wearing nice black slacks and a white button down shirt, open at the collar. He looks like a businessman.

Kenma relaxes at the sight of him, but only slightly. He's fully ready to defend Kuro's honor if he needs to, but Daishou simply holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back.

"I was just saying good morning," he says, giving Kenma a wink. "You know, if you guys want me to join in one of these days, I wouldn't say no to a threesome."

"I'd rather eat shit," Kuro says, turning away from him to start the coffee maker.

"Think about it!" Daishou calls, as he disappears around the corner.

"Sorry about him," Kuro says, glancing sidelong at Kenma. "He's just as bad as he was in high school. Or, worse, actually. He has a nice, cushy job so he thinks he's all that and a bag of chips now."

Kenma purses his lips. He debates with himself whether or not to bring up what Daishou did. It's not really a big deal, he guesses. He defended himself and Kuro will probably get angry and want to confront him. Kenma just wants to forget the whole thing happened and go back to sleep.

"He needs a girlfriend, probably," Kuro muses aloud, as he pours himself some coffee.

Kenma opens cabinets until he finds a plastic container to make a bento box. He scoops rice into it, arranging the vegetables beside it, before adding some slices of fish he found in the fridge. Wrapping it up neatly, he turns to hand it to Kuro.

Kuro's grin lights up his tired expression. "Aww, thanks, babe," he says, as he takes it.

Kenma rolls his eyes, turning away to make himself a bowl to take back to his apartment. "Don't call me that."

Kuro bends to nuzzle the side of Kenma's head, kissing it lightly, as he wraps his arm around Kenma's waist. "But calling each other pet names is part of what makes being a couple so fun!"

Kenma huffs. "Fine . . . nerd."

Kuro pulls back, pouting. "That's not cute."

"You didn't say it had to be cute."

"Ugh, forget it," Kuro says, screwing the cap onto his thermos of coffee.

Kenma smirks faintly in victory. He finds something to cover the bowl, reminding himself to pick it up before he leaves, before turning to look up at Kuro.

"I'll text you later," Kuro says, hesitating in front of him.

"Okay," Kenma says, biting back another yawn. He'll probably be sleeping, but he doesn't want to discourage him.

Kuroo bends to kiss him. Kenma keeps his mouth closed; pretty sure he has morning breath. Kuroo's smells minty, and he presses gently, even as his free hand slips under the hem of the shirt to grab his bare ass. He gives it a squeeze, sighing against Kenma's lips.

"I'm going to miss you," he says wistfully.

Kenma snorts in his face. "Me or my ass?" he asks.

Kuro smirks. "Both," he admits. He gives Kenma another brief kiss, giving his ass a light smack, before pulling his hand away and stepping back.

He grabs his coffee, lifting it in farewell, and Kenma makes his way into the bedroom to get dressed. He pulls on the clothes he wore the night before, though he tosses his boxers into Kuro's laundry and grabs a pair of his boyfriend's clean ones instead. They're big on him, but he only has to wear them to his own apartment anyway.

"Leaving so soon?" Daishou asks, leaning in the doorway of his room as Kenma passes. "I thought we could play a bit."

Kenma gives him the finger without looking at him, grabbing the bowl of rice from the kitchen before pulling on his shoes and heading home.

 

 

 

 

Kuro texts him throughout the day, mostly complaining about how bored he is. After his nap, Kenma responds with plenty of cat videos to help him get through the rest of his work day, sitting at his own desk to work on some coding for his team's current project. Time passes, as before he realizes it's 18:00 and there's someone knocking on his door.

He pads over in his cat-faced house slippers, cat Kuro meowing as he follows. Kenma realizes with a grimace that he forgot to fill his bowl earlier. Come to think of it, he also forgot to eat himself. The bowl of rice he brought with him from Kuro's sits untouched on his kitchen counter.

Distracted, he opens the door to find a bag of take out shoved under his nose. He blinks, taking it, as Kuro makes his way past him into the apartment.

"I figured you forgot to eat," he says, kicking off his shoes and going to flop on the couch.

Kenma carries the food over, kneeling on the floor in front of his coffee table, setting the food on top of it. As he opens the boxes, cat Kuro jumps up onto the couch, meowing louder than before.

"I forgot to feed him," Kenma admits.

Kuro takes the cue, standing to go fill the cat's bowl. When he returns, he settles on the floor behind Kenma, leaning back against the couch, with his legs spread out on either side of him.

"How was your day?" he asks, absently running his fingers through Kenma's hair.

Kenma shrugs, stuffing his face full of warm rice and chicken. "It was fine," he says, once he's swallowed. "I still have work to do."

Kuro huffs. "Can I still hang out?"

"You'll get bored."

Kuro pulls Kenma's hair back to begin braiding it. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'll just read or something."

"I . . . don't have a lot of books." Kenma glances sidelong at his bookshelf, which mostly consists of games or textbooks from school.

Kuro chuckles softly. "That's right. You were never much of a reader." He tucks a stray hair behind Kenma's ear. "Well, that's fine. I can call Bokuto or something. I just want to be in the same room with you." He releases Kenma's hair to wrap his arms around his waist, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Kenma's face grows warm, even as he wrinkles his nose. "You're such a lame sap."

"Excuse you, I'm in love. I'm allowed to be a lame sap."

Kenma can't help but feel gratified by this, and his heart swells in his chest. How long has he waited for this? It feels like a lifetime, instead of just six years. Or has it been seven? He can't really remember. Sometimes, he feels like he's been in love with Kuro his entire life.

Twisting his head back, he catches Kuro's lips in a brief kiss. Kuro grins, gripping him a little tighter around the waist.

"What was that for?"

Kenma shrugs. "Just wanted to," he says, turning back to his food.

True to his word, Kuro sticks close. He lies on the bed behind Kenma, as Kenma sits at his desk and works. For a while things are quiet and peaceful, but Kenma can tell when Kuro starts to get restless. He stands from the bed, inspecting Kenma's room, commenting on the state of his dirty laundry pile on the floor next to his closet.

"Haven't had time," Kenma says absently.

Kuro considers this, before scooping the laundry into a basket. "I'll be back," he says.

Kenma barely notices his absence. When he looks up again and sees a pile of neatly folded clothes on his dresser, he blinks. Swiveling in his chair, he turns toward Kuro.

"You didn't have to—" He stops abruptly.

Kuro's sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly. His phone is against his chest, one hand covering it. Kenma glances at the time and grimaces. When had it gotten so late? Standing, he stretches, arms reaching above his head, before he walks over to the bed to shake Kuro awake.

"Kenma?" Kuro murmurs, cracking an eye open. "Sorry, did I fall asleep?"

Kenma nods. "You should go home."

Kuro turns and buries his face in Kenma's pillow. "Too comfortable."

Kenma pokes him repeatedly. "You're taking up the entire bed."

Kuro flips over, grabbing him abruptly. Kenma yelps, as Kuro pulls him down on top of him.

"We can sleep like this," he says, smirking up at Kenma where he landed on his chest.

Kenma scrunches his nose. "Sounds uncomfortable."

Kuro turns, keeping his arm around Kenma so that they're lying side by side, facing each other. He holds him close, burying his nose in Kenma's hair.

"Is this better?" he mumbles.

Kenma bites his lip, curling his fingers into Kuro's shirt and slipping his legs between his. They're both still in their day clothes, but Kuro's already drifting back to sleep, and wrapped up like this, Kenma can't easily get away without disturbing him.

But he doesn't really want to anyway.

 

 

***

 

 

" _Psst. Psst,_ Kozume-kun. Kozume-kun!"

Kenma looks up from his monitor, frowning at his coworker that's poking his head above the cubicle wall that separates their desks. He's wearing a smirk, which isn't a good sign.

"What?" he asks sharply, not appreciating being disturbed. The start-up company he works for is small, the office housing around fifty employees. If their game proves to be a success, they've been promised larger accommodations. Kenma's looking forward to it, because being cramped in the small space means he's privy to most of his coworkers' drama, whether he wants to be or not.

Kuro would find it entertaining. Kenma just finds it irritating.

He's managed thus far to avoid revealing to his coworkers anything about his personal life, making him somewhat of a mystery. Which is why, when this particular coworker, a young man with the family name of Hishida (Kenma's never bothered to learn his given name), tells him with interest that there's "someone downstairs wanting to see him," Kenma grows nervous.

He stands quickly and hurries toward the stairs, taking the steps two at a time down to the front lobby. He turns the corner to see Kuro leaning against the receptionist desk, a bento on the counter beside him. He's talking to the young woman, and she giggles at something he says. Kenma's stomach squirms, as he stalks forward.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, frowning at the receptionist until her face straightens and she turns away. He's well aware that she can hear everything, though, so he grabs Kuro's sleeve and drags him closer to the entrance.

Kuro allows himself to be dragged, grabbing the bento as he does, but his expression is one of confusion.

"I'm on my lunch break. I came to say hey and give you this." He holds up the bento.

Kenma purses his lips as he stares at it. If he takes it, his coworkers are going to ask questions. If he doesn't, he'll hurt Kuro's feelings. Reaching out, he takes it with a stiff, "thanks."

"Is that it?" he asks then, knowing the longer they stand here, the more time the receptionist has to spread rumors.

His coworkers don't know he likes guys, and while he's not ashamed of it, he also doesn't want his sexuality to be the talk of the office for who knows how long. He's been good at keeping his head down so far and being thrust suddenly into the spotlight because of his relationship is the last thing he wants.

"Are you mad at me?" Kuro asks hesitantly.

Kenma sighs, reaching up to rub his forehead. "No. I just . . . you can't just show up at my work like this."

"Why not? I wouldn't mind if you came to see me," Kuro says, crossing his arms.

Kenma looks at the defensive posture in dismay. He doesn't want to fight with Kuro. Can't he tell his presence is making Kenma uncomfortable? He used to be able to read him so well . . .

"I'm not you," Kenma says helplessly, and immediately he knows it's the wrong thing to say.

Kuro's expression clouds over. "I know you're not," he says. "But that still doesn't answer the question. Why don't you want me here at your work?" He glances over at the receptionist, who's trying not to look as though she's eavesdropping. He lowers his voice, turning back to Kenma. "You haven't told anyone about us, have you?"

Kenma bites his lip, staring at the floor. "Can we not talk about this, right now?" he pleads softly.

Kuro's quiet for a moment, and when he speaks his voice sounds distant. "Sure. I'll see you later, I guess." He points to the bento. "Eat."

Kenma nods, his stomach in knots, as Kuro turns away and leaves. He carries the bento upstairs, avoiding the curious gazes of his coworkers, as he passes to get to his desk. He sits down with a sigh, staring morosely at the bento in front of him. The cloth it's wrapped in has tiny cat silhouettes all over it, and when he opens it, there's a note.

_Make sure to eat your vegetables! I love you! ~K_

Kenma swallows hard, his heart feeling like lead. He folds the note and slips it into his pocket, guilt souring his appetite.

"Who gave you that?" Hishida asks, poking his face above the wall once more. "You got a girlfriend?"

"No, I—" Kenma hesitates, noticing more heads peering above the walls around him, the interest of the team zeroing in on him at the chance of hearing something juicy from the tight-lipped Kozume. He shakes his head, staring down at the rice, meat, and vegetables that sit in front of him. He feels even less like eating than before.

"It's from my mom," he mumbles.

"That's cute! I wish my mom would send me bentos," Hishida chirps. "Enjoy!" He ducks behind his cubicle, and one by one the rest of his coworkers do the same.

Kenma eats morosely, each bite tasting like ash in his mouth.

 

 

 

That night when he gets home, Kenma feeds cat Kuro then collapses on the couch, pulling out his phone to text Kuro.

>> _can we talk?_ (19:34)

He waits for a few minutes, but there's no response. He frowns, trying again.

>> _kuro?_ (19:37)

Is he really that upset? Kenma chews on his lip, staring down at the screen. He hates talking on the phone, but . . . it's not as easy ignoring a call, is it? Grimacing, he presses the call button and waits.

It rings about four times before a irritatingly familiar voice croons, "hello Kozume~"

Kenma scowls. "Where's Kuro?" he asks.

"He's in the shower," Daishou says. "Left his phone on the couch. He's been in there a while. Seemed pretty upset when he got home. Did you two have a fight or something?"

"You shouldn't answer other people's phones," Kenma says, evading the question.

"But I wanted to hear your voice," Daishou says, his voice low and slithery.

Kenma shudders. "I'm hanging up now."

"Wait, wait," Daishou says, his voice losing its sultry tone. "Maybe I can help?"

Kenma narrows his eyes, despite the fact the man can't see him. "How?"

"Well, something's obviously bothering you since you're calling and I've only ever seen you and Kuro text since you got together. I can be like, you know, a crying shoulder or something."

"No, thanks," Kenma says, wrinkling his nose.

"I could give you a comfort blowjob," Daishou offers. "I've been told I'm really good with my mouth."

Kenma hangs up. Tossing his phone away with disgust, he tries to think of another solution. He could simply go over, but that would mean having to _see_ Daishou, which he's not very keen on. But it's either that or wait for Kuro to call back . . . if he ever does.

Grimacing, Kenma picks himself up off the couch and goes to pull his shoes back on.

Of course, Daishou is the one to open the door. He leans on the doorframe, smirking as he leers at Kenma.

"Change your mind about that bl— _oof_."

Kenma elbows him hard in the stomach, pushing past him to enter the apartment. He kicks off his shoes and makes his way to the bathroom, where he can hear the water of the shower running. _How long has he been in there?_ Frowning, he enters without knocking, shutting the door behind him. He flings open the shower curtain, and Kuro shrieks, nearly falling, as he hastens to catch himself on the slick wall.

"Kenma?!" he exclaims. "What the hell? You gave me a heart attack!"

"You've been in here forever," Kenma says with a frown. "I tried texting you and I called you too. What are you even doing in here? You're not hard, so you haven't been jerking off."

Kuro flushes. "I _could_ have been and just finished already."

"Daishou would've mentioned it," Kenma says mildly. He tries to catch Kuro's eye, but he avoids his gaze, staring at the wet tile beside him. "Are you pouting?"

"No," Kuro mutters.

Kenma rolls his eyes. "Finish showering."

He closes the curtain again, before sitting on the stool beside the bathtub. He doesn't really want to go back out where Daishou is, so he'll endure the humidity of the bathroom. It only takes Kuro a few minutes to finish up, and when he pulls back the curtain, Kenma offers him the towel he moved to sit down.

Kuro takes it from him slowly. "You didn't have to wait in here," he says, rubbing the water from his body and hair before slinging the towel around his waist.

"Daishou keeps talking about sucking my dick," Kenma explains, wrinkling his nose.

Kuro's expression darkens. "The fuck?"

Before Kenma can tell him not to worry about it, Daishou's not worth getting upset over, Kuro's storming out of the bathroom. Kenma hastens to follow.

"Daishou, what the fuck? Stop hitting on my boyfriend!" Kuro stalks into the living room and plants himself in front of the couch where Daishou's sitting watching TV. He paints a pretty ridiculous picture, hands on his hips, hair flattened against his face, in just a tiny towel.

Daishou shrugs. "I'm just messing with him," he says. "I'm not _actually_ going to do anything." He glances over at Kenma and gives him a wink. "Unless he wants me to."

Kuro fumes, looking about ready to burst into a tirade, and Kenma sighs. "Kuro," he says, shaking his head. "Getting you riled up is what he wants. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"Fine," Kuro snaps, stalking past them both to disappear into the bedroom.

Kenma hesitates before following. He shuts the door behind him, leaning against it to watch Kuro pull some clothes on more aggressively than seems appropriate.

"Kuro . . ."

"So I'm not allowed to visit you at work, I'm not allowed to get angry at Daishou for being gross toward my boyfriend, so what exactly am I allowed to do, Kenma?" Kuro turns toward him, flinging the towel into a corner.

Kenma looks down at the floor, curling inward. He presses his fingers against the grain of the door behind him, feeling the rough patches and focusing on them.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "The thing at work is just . . . it's really small in there, and everyone knows everyone else's business because it's hard _not_ to know when you can overhear every conversation and I just . . . I don't want people knowing my business. I don't want them poking into my life. If they knew I had a boyfriend . . . they wouldn't stop talking about it for _weeks_. Maybe _months_. And I just . . ."

"I know. I get it," Kuro says with a sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand through his damp hair. "I guess I didn't really consider any of that. I just wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry too."

"I liked the bento," Kenma murmurs. "And the note."

Kuro grins crookedly. "Yeah?"

Kenma nods. Pushing away from the door, he steps forward, fitting himself between Kuro's legs and brushing his own fingers through the damp strands of his hair. Kuro reaches up to hold his hips, stroking them slowly.

"So you're not ashamed of me?" Kuro asks hopefully.

Kenma shakes his head, bending to place a soft kiss against Kuro's forehead, before wrapping his arms around his neck. Kuro responds in kind, encircling Kenma's waist with his arms and pulling him closer.

"You can get back at Daishou," Kenma decides. "But you know he's just doing this to make you angry. So be smart about it."

Kuro grins against his chest. "I'm gonna put soap on his toothbrush."

Kenma considers. "Juvenile, but effective."

Kuro laughs, and the sound is a relief to Kenma's ears. He relaxes further, allowing Kuro to pull him up on the bed, rolling until Kuro's on top of him. He kisses Kenma's neck then, nuzzling his face against it. Kenma pushes against his chest.

"You're still wet," he complains.

Kuro smirks, shaking his head then to splatter water onto his face. Kenma sputters, scowling then.

"You're so annoying."

"You love me anyway~" Kuro sings, before leaning down to kiss him gently.

Kenma kisses him back readily, wrapping his arms around Kuro's neck. He supposes that he shouldn't expect things to go perfectly, especially not at the start. They've only been dating a month, after all. They're still getting used to things.

He's sure things will smooth out as time goes on. They were meant to be together, after all.

 

 

***

 

 

Things do get easier. They learn to work around each other's schedules, to respect each other's boundaries. Even with the added annoyance of Daishou, Kenma feels as though things are going well. At his job, as well, the company is flourishing. The beta tests came back with rave reviews, making everyone eager to push ahead with releasing the new game. This leads to long nights in front of the computer, again, but Kuro's patient and understanding, though Kenma feels bad when he continues to fall asleep on the couch or in his bed, while he works.

So that's why, four months into the relationship, when Kuro comes to him asking if he's okay with going out to meet up with some friends from Kuro's college who are in town, Kenma says yes. He's not really into going out places or meeting people, but Kuro seems excited and with how supportive he's been lately, Kenma can't find it in him to refuse the invitation.

The friends turn out to be Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime. Oikawa apparently roomed with Kuroo in college, and the two immediately fall into catching up as soon as they arrive at the restaurant. They sit beside each other, talking animatedly about people and events Kenma doesn't know, leaving Iwaizumi and Kenma in silence on the other side of the table.

"So," Iwaizumi says after a moment, glancing over at him. "You're the Kenma Kuroo needed to Skype religiously every night back in college."

Kenma flushes, looking down at the table. "It wasn't _every_ night."

Iwaizumi nods. "Still, he seemed really fond of you. Talked about you all the time."

Kenma sends Kuro a small glare, that of course he doesn't see, as he's in the middle of laughing at something Oikawa said. Despite his annoyance, his chest feels light. Hearing Kuro laugh is one of Kenma's favorite things, and although it stings a bit to see Oikawa pulling that laugh from him so easily, it's hard to begrudge him this time he's enjoying with his old friend.

"I'm just saying . . . I'm glad to see that he's happy with the person he loves," Iwaizumi says, shifting awkwardly beside him.

Kenma blinks, not entirely sure what to say to that. He looks down at his phone, pulling up the app for the beta test of the game he's been working on. He holds it out to Iwaizumi.

"I'm helping to design and build this game," he says, as Iwaizumi takes the phone.

"Really? You're designing this?" Iwaizumi looks impressed, and he grins faintly. "Kuroo did mention you were a genius."

Kenma huffs. "Kuro needs to learn to keep his mouth shut."

Iwaizumi laughs. "I could say the same about Oikawa. Really, as soon as I met Kuroo I knew I was in for trouble. When those two get together"—he shakes his head—"well, I gave up trying to keep them reined in years ago."

"It's exhausting," Kenma says with a nod, remembering the days when Kuro and Bokuto used to hang out during the training camps.

Iwaizumi hums around the rim of his glass, as he takes a drink. His gaze travels to Oikawa's face, which is flushed red from alcohol and laughter. Kenma watches, as the lines around his eyes soften, and his lips curve in a tiny smile.

"It's not bad, though," he says absently.

Kenma glances at Kuro. He looks ridiculous; his face red, hair sticking up wildly from the many times he's run his hand through it. He has something green stuck in his teeth, and he's laughing his stupid braying donkey laugh. Not attractive.

Yet Kenma still finds his heart fluttering at the sight of him. _Must be love, then_ , he concludes, smirking around his next drink.

After they say goodnight to Iwaizumi and Oikawa, Kuro drops his arm across Kenma's shoulders, as they make the walk back to Kuro's apartment.

"Man, that was a great night," Kuro says, leaning his weight against Kenma.

Kenma rolls his eyes, shoving against Kuro. "Quit that; you're heavy."

"I can't walk by myself Kenmaaaaaa. I'm drunk!"

"I noticed."

Kenma huffs, as he manages to escape, only to have Kuro flop against his back. He staggers forward. "Kuro, get off."

"Carry me."

"No."

"But I always carry you when you want me to," Kuro whines.

"You're like 80kg . . ."

"Am not! Only 78. So there."

"Still too heavy."

Kenma could probably carry him a block or so, but his legs aren't as strong as they used to be, and just the thought of carrying Kuro all the way back to his apartment makes his body feel weak with fatigue.

"Fine," Kuro says, pouting. "But you gotta make sure I don't fall over."

Kenma sighs. "Come here," he says, taking Kuro's hand. He laces his fingers through his and ignores the dopey grin Kuro gives him in response.

"You think we'll be like them when we grow up?"

Kenma blinks. "They're your age."

"Yeah, I know, but like . . . _like_ them. Like, living together and-and experiencing _life_ together!"

Kenma bites his lip, staring at the ground as they walk. "We're experiencing life together."

"I know, I know, that's not what I—fuck!"

Kenma stops, startled, as Kuro walks face-first into a streetlight. He staggers backwards, rubbing at his nose.

"Shit, is it bleeding?" he asks, tilting his head back.

"No," Kenma says, torn between feeling guilty and laughing. A small snort-giggle escapes anyway.

"Kenmaaaa, don't laugh. You were supposed to be looking out for me!"

"I'm sorry," Kenma says, wrapping his arm around Kuro's waist and pulling him closer. This time, he allows Kuro to lean against him, willing to support at least part of his weight. It's partially his fault the guy walked into the post, after all.

They manage to make it to Kuro's apartment building without any incidents (aside from Kuro spying a cat and nearly yanking Kenma's arm off in his sudden desire to try to catch it "So Kuro Number Two can have a Kenma Number Two!"), and Kenma's honestly a little relieved when they reach the elevator. He pushes Kuro against the wall, rubbing his shoulder where it's gotten tight bearing half of Kuro's weight.

He's only just pressed the button for Kuro's floor when he finds himself suddenly pinned against the wall, and Kuro's hot, alcohol-scented breath is bearing down on his mouth, as Kuro's hands grip his hips tightly. He scrunches his nose, very aware of the fact that the elevator doors could open at any moment, revealing people who would see them . . .

"Kuro," he tries to say, his words muffled against Kuro's lips. "Kuro, stop." He pushes against his chest.

Kuro pulls away, breathing hard. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I just love you so much. I always want to kiss you."

"You can kiss me later," Kenma says, placing his hand on Kuro's face and pushing it away gently. "After you brush your teeth."

Kuro drops his head on Kenma's shoulder, nuzzling it. Kenma sighs and pets his hair, unable to help but wonder how Iwaizumi's holding up dealing with a drunk Oikawa. They reach Kuro's floor, and Kenma assists Kuro to his door. He ends up bearing most of Kuro's weight, again, and Kenma forgoes asking Kuro for his keys, simply slips his hand into Kuro's pocket and retrieves them himself.

"I should just give you a key," Kuro says absently, as he takes off his shoes.

He meanders to the bathroom to brush his teeth, Kenma following while fighting a blush that he can't seem to dispel.

"You'd really give me one?" he asks, looking in at Kuro from the bathroom doorway.

Kuro nods, spitting into the sink. "I may be drunk, but I meant what I said before."

He rinses his toothbrush and sets it in the cup by the faucet, turning to look at Kenma, as he wipes his mouth on the back of his wrist.

"I want us to get a place together," he says, his eyes glassy yet earnest. "I want to wake up every morning to your face, go to sleep holding you every night, have coffee together, take baths together . . . I want to _be_ with you, Kenma."

Kenma bites his lip, not sure what to think. On the one hand, living with Kuro is something he knows he'll eventually want. But right now? He likes having his space. He likes not having to worry about another person while he stays up all night coding. He's not even sure if living with him would be any fun for Kuro.

"I-I . . . I'll think about it," Kenma says, that being the only answer he can give at the moment.

Kuro stares at him before nodding slowly. "Okay," he says. "Okay." He shuffles past Kenma then, heading for his bedroom.

Kenma hesitates before following. He lingers again in the doorway, as Kuro flops face-down against the pillows, not bothering to get changed.

"Kuro?" he says softly, wondering if Kuro will even hear him. He doesn't make a sound, so Kenma can't be sure. Still, there's an ache in his chest, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

He steps into the room, walking over to place a small kiss on the back of Kuro's head. "I love you," he whispers.

Kuro mumbles something indistinct, and after standing there a moment waiting to see if he'll repeat himself, Kenma leaves.

Thankfully, he doesn't run into Daishou on his way out.

 

 

***

 

 

Time passes, and Kuro must have forgotten about his request, because he doesn't bring it up again. He does, however, remember to make Kenma a key to his apartment, and although Kenma feels like he should probably return the favor, he finds himself stalling. He likes having his own space free of intruders. And as much as he loves Kuro, he doesn't necessarily want him barging in on him anytime he wants. (He hopes Kuro would be more considerate of his alone time than he was when they were younger, but he can't rely on that hope.)

Kuro doesn't say anything, but Kenma gets the feeling he's waiting for that day when Kenma gives him his key, allowing him into that part of his life. A step closer to living together.

It's not that Kenma doesn't _want_ to. He just . . . doesn't really want to. Guilt haunts him every time he thinks about it, so he tries to not think about it. Besides, it's not like he doesn't let Kuro in whenever he wants to visit. And despite the annoyance of Daishou, he doesn't mind going over to Kuro's. It helps when he manages to plant a small tracking device on Daishou's phone, making it easier to know when he's in the apartment and when he's gone.

Kuro laughs when he finds out, but he doesn’t scold Kenma for it.

They're actually sitting together on the couch tracking Daishou's movements ("He goes into that bakery almost every day. How is he not getting fat?" "Maybe he met a girl there." "Gross, I don’t want to think about Daishou flirting."), when Kenma's phone buzzes with a text . . . and buzzes . . . and buzzes.

 **Shouyou** _  
__KENMA!!!!_ (18:44) _  
i know its been a while but_ (18:44) _  
!!!!!_ (18:44) _  
my team is in tokyo for a tournament!!!!!_ (18:44) _  
i thought maybe you could come see me????_ (18:44) _  
id like to see you and um talk about stuff_ (18:44) _  
if that's okay?????_ (18:44)  
_let me know!!!!!_ (18:45)

Kenma doesn't realize how hard he's clutching his phone until Kuro tries to take it from him, and his fingers have cramped up around it.

"You don't have to go," Kuro says, and Kenma can feel the quickened beat of his heart against his back.

"I know," he says, looking down at his phone.

 _kenma???_ (18:46)  
_this is still your number right???_ (18:46)  
_id really like to see you . . ._ (18:48)

Kenma inhales shakily. It's been almost two years since he last saw Hinata Shouyou, his ex-boyfriend and former best friend. At least, he assumes they aren't best friends anymore. Ever since they broke up, Kenma's heard from him less and less, and he figures their platonic relationship ended the night their romantic one did.

The thought of never reconciling hurts, though. Kenma has to admit that he misses Shouyou. They were best friends before they got together, and he misses Shouyou's easy companionship, the way he could always see the good in people, the way he could light up a room with just his smile. Kenma always felt warm and happy in Shouyou's presence, and he can't help but want to feel that again, despite what happened.

 _> >when is the tournament?_ (18:50)

 **Shouyou**  
_KENMA!!!!! YOU ANSWERED!!!! HI!!!!!_ (18:50)

Kenma bites his lip, hesitating before repeating his reply.

 _> >when is the tournament? _(18:50)

 **Shouyou**  
_tomorrow at six!!! we can go out to eat after if you want????_ (18:50)

 _> >okay_ (18:51)

Shouyou responds with more exclamation points and some excited looking emojis, and Kenma can't help but smile faintly, even as his stomach twists into knots.

"I'll go with you," Kuro declares, breaking the silence.

Kenma shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

"Kenma . . ."

Kenma can hear the uncertainty in Kuro's voice. He sits up, turning around to look at him.

"I'll be fine," he says again, firmly.

Kuro reaches up to brush his hair behind his ear. "I know what he did to you. You told me after it happened. I thought it was a girl at the time, but now I know it was him. I'm kind of angry he thinks he can just waltz back into your life like this."

Kenma rolls his eyes. "I guess it's a good thing you're not coming with me then."

He moves to get off the couch, but Kuro grabs his wrist. "Kenma, I'm serious. He hurt you. Badly. Let me be there for you when you meet him."

"Why? So you can make him feel worse for something he's already sorry for?" Kenma asks, pulling his arm away. "I don't need you to hold my hand, Kuro. I'm ready to talk to him."

Kuro blinks up at him, hurt flickering across his features. "I'm not trying to hold your hand; I just want to support and comfort you."

"I don't need you to," Kenma says flatly.

Kuro frowns. "Why are you angry at me?"

"Why are you acting like I can't take care of myself?" Kenma shoots back before he can stop himself.

"It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself, obviously you can, I'm just not sure I'm comfortable with you going to meet this guy who broke your heart all by yourself!"

"You're being overprotective," Kenma grumbles, looking away. Annoyance tingles at the base of his skull. He understands that Kuro wants to look out for him, and he has to admit to himself that he's a little nervous about seeing Shouyou again after everything that happened. But having Kuro there . . . wouldn't that show weakness? How would that look?

_"Hey Shouyou, yeah I brought Kuro, my current boyfriend, along with me just in case you hurt my feelings."_

It's embarrassing.

Kuro doesn't seem to understand that, though. Why doesn't he? Why is he pushing so much? Kenma glances sidelong at him. Kuro's staring at the floor now, chewing on his lip. Kenma sighs.

"I'll be fine, Kuro," he says again. "Maybe I wouldn't have been a year ago, but it's been a long time. I'm over it. And I . . . I miss him."

Kuro looks up, doubt written on his face. "You do?"

Kenma resists the urge to roll his eyes again. "Not like that. He was my best friend, Kuro."

"I thought _I_ was your best friend."

Now Kenma does roll his eyes. "You were both my best friends."

"But you always liked him more."

Kenma's irritation grows. He throws his hands in the air. "Now you're just being ridiculous."

"Am I? Last I checked, you dated him first. You kissed him first . . . he was your first everything."

"So you're jealous."

"Of course I'm jealous! Kenma, I've been in love with you since high school."

"I've been in love with you that long, too. Just because I dated someone else, that doesn't change that fact." Kenma shakes his head.

"But you loved him too, didn't you?"

Kenma frowns. "Why does that matter? Kuro, I'm with _you_."

"I know!"

Kuro's voice comes out sharp and angry, and Kenma takes a step back in surprise. Kuro grimaces, rubbing his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he says from behind his hands. His voice sounds weary. "I just . . . you don't want your coworkers to know about me. You don't want to move in with me. You don't want to give me a key to your apartment, and now . . . now you're going off to see an ex that you loved, and you don't want me to come with you. It's starting to feel like . . . like maybe I'm just a placeholder. Maybe you've been waiting for Hinata to want you back this whole time . . ."

Kenma stares, dumbfounded.

Kuro laughs hollowly. "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but . . . I can't help it, Kenma. I feel like maybe you don't really want this; want me. You don't really seem like you're in it for the long-haul, like I am."

Kenma's chest squeezes tightly around his lungs, as a hot flush of anger burns through him. He can't believe he's hearing this from Kuro, of all people.

"If that's what you really think, then maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," he says icily, standing stiffly in front of the couch.

Kuro looks up, frowning. "What?"

"You’re being stupid," Kenma declares, turning for the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was stupid to want some confirmation of commitment from your boyfriend," Kuro calls after him.

Kenma slams the door shut behind him, breathing hard. His heart is pounding away in his chest, as he sags against the doorframe.

 _He should know,_ Kenma thinks viciously. _He should know how much I love him._

Living together shouldn't be the only form of confirmation of commitment, right? Shouldn't Kuro realize that just because Kenma might not want to live together just yet, that doesn't mean he doesn't love him just as much?

Kenma rubs his arms, feeling sick to his stomach. He doesn't want to leave things like this, but he doesn't know how to prove to Kuro how much he cares about him without giving up his space, his comfort zone. Besides, he shouldn't _have_ to prove anything. Kuro should just _know._

Kuro has always just known.

Kenma walks back to his apartment feeling unsettled.

 

 

 

 

It's different, entering the gymnasium as a spectator. Kenma hasn't stepped foot in a gym since high school. Not having any particular love for the sport, Kenma stopped playing volleyball as soon as he graduated. His kouhai often invited him to visit, but Kenma never saw any reason to take them up on it. He still sent them well wishes and good luck messages before a game, but he never felt inclined to watch one.

It's easy to spot Shouyou, even up in the bleachers. He manages to find a seat with an empty chair on either side, and he lowers himself into it, as he keeps an eye on the fiery orange hair down on the court below. Shouyou's bouncing on his feet, talking to a teammate who's stretching beside him. This teammate seems familiar, and when he turns to say something to Shouyou, Kenma's chest squeezes instinctively.

Kageyama Tobio.

_"I didn't mean to! I swear, Kenma! We were arguing, even! He was making me so mad and then—and then!"_

_"You kissed him."_

_Shouyou grimaces, sinking to the floor in front of Kenma where he sits on the couch, feeling numb. "I wanted to shut him up. I thought about punching him but then I just . . ."_

_"You like him."_

_Shouyou shakes his head emphatically. "No, no! I like **you** , Kenma!"_

_Kenma curls inward, staring down at his feet. "You like him."_

_Shouyou ducks his head, trying to catch Kenma's gaze. "Kenma. Kenma, please. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you! I'll do better. I'll be better!"_

_"You should go." Kenma stands, making his way to his room without looking back. Shouyou calls after him, his voice breaking as the tears stream down his cheeks. But Kenma simply shuts his door and crawls under his bed._

Kenma blinks out of the memory, his chest aching. Honestly, he knew it was only a matter of time before something like that happened. As much as he loved Shouyou, and as well as they got along, they simply weren't compatible. Shouyou lived on a fast track in life, always striving to get better in volleyball, aim higher. His goal was for the Olympics, to travel the world. Kenma never understood that goal, nor did he ever feel the desire to travel.

He was already starting to slip away from Shouyou, when the kiss happened. There had been distance growing between them, as Kenma gave up trying to keep up with Shouyou, and Shouyou kept blazing on ahead, not noticing how tired Kenma was. Deep down, Kenma feels like he always knew Shouyou would return to Kageyama. The two fit together better than Kenma and Shouyou ever did.

So he tells himself it shouldn't hurt. It's been two years, after all, and they both apparently have found someone that fits better. Despite the arguments Kenma and Kuro have been having lately, Kenma loves Kuro so fiercely, he can't imagine life without him.

 _We'll work things out,_ he tells himself, as the match below begins.

_We always do._

The match ends with Shouyou's team winning, coming as no surprise to Kenma. He's only gotten better, after all, and so has Kageyama. The two of them move together seamlessly on the court in a way Kenma can't help but liken to the way he and Kuro used to move.

He's surprised to find himself missing it, somewhat. At least, he misses being in perfect cohesion with Kuro. It seems like these days they keep falling out of sync.

He waits for Shouyou outside the locker room, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. He doesn't entirely know how he's going to feel, seeing Shouyou face to face again after everything. His stomach is in knots, and he jumps about three feet in the air when the door opens suddenly and Shouyou comes barreling out.

"KENMA!" He exclaims, looking just as excited and happy to see him as he always has.

Kenma's throat closes, as Shouyou runs toward him. He stands still, allowing Shouyou to hug him tightly.

"It's so good to see you," Shouyou says, genuinely.

Kenma slowly raises his arms to wrap around him. His hair is still wet from the showers, and the strands are leaving wet trails on Kenma's cheek, but he doesn't care. He hugs Shouyou back, holding him close and taking comfort in the familiar feel of him.

Shouyou pulls away too soon, grabbing Kenma's hands and holding them between them.

"I'm so glad you came! Did you see the game?!"

Kenma nods.

"WE WON!" Shouyou shouts happily.

Kenma can't help but smile slightly. "I know."

Shouyou takes a step back, assessing Kenma. "You look different! Your hair is longer! It looks good!"

Kenma looks Shouyou over briefly. "You look the same."

He laughs. "I'm taller though! Can't you tell?!"

He squares his shoulders, lifting his chin. Kenma blinks, noticing they're now eye-to-eye.

"I didn't know people could still grow in their twenties," he says.

Shouyou grins. "I'm a special case," he says. "So how are you?! We haven't talked in forever!"

"I'm . . . fine," Kenma says hesitantly, not entirely sure he wants to go into everything with Kuro right now. He bites his lip, glancing over Shouyou's shoulder to the locker room. "How are you? Are you and Kageyama still . . .?"

"Together? Um, yeah, we are." Shouyou suddenly seems uncertain. He drops Kenma's hands, fidgeting with the front of his shirt, grabbing it and tugging briefly.

Kenma wonders if he's feeling guilty about that. _He shouldn't . . ._

"Are you happy?" he asks softly, thinking that's the most important thing.

"Oh yeah, I am!" Shouyou nods vigorously, his damp hair flopping on his forehead. "We fight all the time. It's great!" He grins.

Kenma frowns. "How can you be happy if you fight all the time?"

"It's how we work out our issues! We argue about stuff and then we come around to seeing the other's point of view and then we figure out a solution!" Shouyou shrugs. "It works for us."

"Kuro and I never used to fight . . ."

Shouyou tilts his head. "You're with Kuroo now? Rooster-head?"

Kenma smirks faintly. "Yeah, Rooster-head."

"I'm glad," Shouyou says with a grin. "I could tell you really missed him. That must mean you're happy too!"

Kenma looks down at his feet. "I guess."

Shouyou ducks his head to try and catch Kenma's gaze. "You guess?"

Before Kenma can figure out whether or not he wants to confide in him, the locker doors swing open again, and Kageyama scowls at them.

"Oi! Hinata! We're waiting on you!"

Shouyou starts, turning around to face his partner. "I'll be there in a second!" he shouts, despite the fact they're standing five feet from each other.

"Hurry up!" Kageyama yells back, before disappearing through the doors again.

Shouyou turns back to Kenma. "Wait for me? We just need to go over the game with coach, and then we can grab dinner!"

"Okay," Kenma says, taking a step back.

Shouyou grins. "It's _really_ good to see you," he says again, grabbing Kenma in one more hug before darting back into the locker room.

Kenma finds a place to sit and wait, pulling out his phone. He hasn't talked to Kuro since their fight yesterday, and he wonders if he should call him.

Instead, he scrolls down his contacts and hits a different name.

 _> >when did u know u wanted to move in w oikawa? _ (20:30)

 **Iwaziumi** _  
Kozume? Is everything okay?_ (20:31)

 _> >pls just answer the question_ (20:31)

 **Iwaizumi**  
_I suppose I realized it when I started missing him even when I knew I would see him within the next day or so. I wanted him near me always. I wanted to wake up to him, go to sleep with him, have breakfast and shower together and all that mundane domestic shit couples do._ (20:35)

Kenma considers this. It sounds exactly how Kuro described wanting to be with Kenma, almost word for word. He chews on his lip. Does he feel that same way toward Kuro? He does miss him whenever they're apart, if the deep-seated ache in his chest that lingers after they say goodbye is any indication. But there's also some relief too, at least on the days when he's exhausted or irritable and just wants to be alone.

 _> >but dont u miss having ur own space?_ (20:36)  
_> >oikawa seems like the clingy type_ (20:36)

 **Iwaizumi**  
_He's clingy as fuck, but I'm willing to compromise my personal space to make him happy. It's not like I don't enjoy his presence in the first place._ (20:37) _  
Is Kuroo being clingy?_ (20:37)

 _> >he's insecure. he wants to move in w me but im not sure. . ._ (20:38)

 **Iwaizumi  
**_And now he thinks you don't love him as much as he loves you?_ (20:39)

 _> >yeah_ (20:39)

 **Iwaizumi  
**_So tell him he's wrong. If you're not ready, you're not ready. You shouldn't say yes to something you're unsure about. You might regret it later._ (20:40)

 _> >i dont think ill regret it. . ._ (20:41)

 **Iwaizumi**  
_Then why are you hesitating?_ (20:42)

 _> >i like having my own space_ (20:42)

 **Iwaizumi**  
_So tell him that. Figure something out that works for the both of you. Oikawa hates talking things out, he prefers to do everything on his own, but talking is the best thing for relationships, Kozume._ (20:43)

 _> >weve never really had to talk before. hes always just . . . known_ (20:43)

 **Iwaizumi**  
_You're different people than you were in high school. Talk to him._ (20:43)

“Kenma! Are you ready to go?”

Kenma glances up to see Shouyou standing outside the locker room, dressed now in street clothes. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he nods. Shouyou hops over, taking his hand with a grin.

“Let’s go!”

 

 

It turns out that Shouyou, while bright and happy as always, is just as exhausting to be around as Kenma remembers. He has a good time with him at dinner, catching up and everything, but most of the conversation revolves around Shouyou and his team’s shot at nationals. He seems pretty confident that they can win it, and while Kenma’s happy for him, he can’t really relate.

He’s glad when he starts heading home. Halfway there, though, he remembers his conversation with Iwaizumi, and instead of getting off at his stop, he rides the train a couple more blocks until it drops him off at the station near Kuro’s place. He thinks about texting to let Kuro know he’s coming, but then again Kuro never texts ahead so this might be good payback.

Of course, he regrets not reaching out when he steps into the apartment and finds Daishou on the couch watching TV. Slipping out of his shoes, he shuts the door and avoids eye contact when Daishou turns to look over at him.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to show up again so soon. Kuroo was really distraught, I thought you guys had broken up or something.”

Kenma frowns. Had Kuro really thought that Kenma wanted to break up? Or was Daishou just messing with him?

“We’re not broken up,” Kenma says flatly, heading for Kuro’s room.

“Damn. Now I feel bad for blowing the guy.”

Kenma freezes. He doesn’t turn around, not sure what kind of expression he’s making and not wanting to give Daishou the satisfaction of seeing it. Still, a low chuckle comes from the couch.

“He needed a little pick me up, and I offered and he told me to go ahead. I figured that must’ve meant you broke up.”

Kenma closes his eyes. _It’s not true. He’s just trying to upset you. It’s not true._

“Let me tell you, that guy’s O face is pretty ridiculous. How do you not burst out laughing whenever you see it?”

Kenma curls his hands into fists, breathing through his nose.

“I bet you look cute when you come,” Daishou murmurs, his voice suddenly very close. He stands directly behind Kenma, his words whispering past Kenma’s ear. “I hear you, you know. These walls aren’t very thick. The way you whimper and moan . . . pretty erotic. I think about it in my dreams.”

Kenma tells himself not to react. _Don’t give him the satisfaction._ He stares at Kuro’s bedroom door, wondering if he’s inside. Would Daishou be so bold if he is?

Daishou brushes Kenma’s hair gently behind his ear. Kenma leans away from his touch, his scowl deepening.

“I like to imagine you making those noises under me,” he says softly. “I could make you moan, you know. I could make you _scream._ Just say the word.”

Kenma inhales deeply, forcing his body to relax. “Go fuck yourself,” he says calmly, walking forward again toward Kuro’s door.

“You’ll come around eventually!” Daishou calls after him. “I know I’m wearing you down!”

Kenma enters Kuro’s room, shutting the door firmly behind him. He sees then why Kuro didn’t hear what just happened outside. He’s passed out asleep dressed in only his running shorts, the underarmor shirt he wears to run on the floor where he tossed it. He appears to have showered at least, his hair still damp from where it’s poking up over the tops of the pillows he has smashed on either side of his face.

There’s no way Kuro would be sleeping this peacefully if he’d cheated on Kenma. He wouldn’t cheat on him in the first place. He’s not that guy, even while upset. Confident in this, Kenma climbs up onto the bed, curling into a ball with his head on Kuro’s back. He listens to his steady heartbeat, feels the rise and fall of his chest, and takes comfort in the familiarity.

Taking out his phone, he plays a couple games, leveling up on one. He’s just about to hit a new high score with the second one, when Kuro shifts, lifting onto his elbows and twisting slightly to look down at Kenma. Kenma’s head falls off his back as a result, hitting the mattress, as his thumb slips and misses its mark.

“Fuck,” he mutters, frowning at the screen as the level resets.

“Kenma?” Kuro mutters sleepily. “What are you doing?”

Kenma puts down his phone, lifting his gaze to meet his. “I wanted to see you,” he says plainly, thinking that should be obvious.

Kuro moves to sit up all the way, Kenma following suit. Kuro rubs his hand through his hair, mussing the crazy bedhead further.

“But . . . last night . . .”

“Last night was dumb,” Kenma says, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

Kuro frowns. “I might’ve overreacted a bit, but Kenma—”

Kenma holds up his hand, cutting him off. “I wasn’t right either. Look, you’re not wrong in saying I don’t want you to move in with me. I don’t. At least, not yet. I like having my own space. I miss you when you’re not there, but it’s a relief to be alone sometimes. If we’re going to get an apartment together, I’m going to need my own space.”

Kuro’s expression clears. “We can do that! We can get an apartment that has an extra room. It can be your office. We can—”

“It’s not just that.” Kenma sighs, shaking his head. “Right now with my job . . . I’m working weird hours, staying up late, going into the office randomly, I don’t have time for another person in my living space that I’m going to need to pay attention to. I barely have time to pay attention to Kuro II right now. That won’t be fair to you, being home alone all the time, or it’ll feel alone because I’m in another room working. I don’t want to ignore you, but I _will_ be ignoring you more often than not if we move in together.”

Kuro chews on his lip. “I get it,” he says, though the dejection in his voice and body is obvious.

“That said,” Kenma continues, reaching into his pocket to pull out his key ring. He slips off the apartment key that’s hanging there, holding it out to Kuro.

Kuro’s eyes widen. “Are you sure?” he asks.

Kenma nods. “I’m not afraid of commitment, I just want to give you what you deserve,” he says quietly. He takes Kuro’s hand, placing the key in his palm. “You can’t just come over whenever. You have to text beforehand just in case I’m in the middle of coding, okay?”

Kuro nods quickly, clutching the key tightly. “Thank you,” he says softly.

Kenma’s face feels warm, and he looks away. “You don’t have to thank me,” he mutters. “It’s what I want too.”

Kuro reaches forward to take the side of Kenma’s face, stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. Kenma leans into the touch, closing his eyes and sighing. It feels as though a giant weight has been lifted off his chest, and when Kuro kisses him, he kisses back readily.

Carefully, Kuro guides him back against the bed, moving on top of him, as he continues the kiss. Kenma arches into him, curling his fingers into Kuro’s damp hair, clutching the strands, as he opens his mouth and allows Kuro’s tongue to sweep into it. A low moan rumbles through him, and Kenma freezes, remembering what Daishou said.

He presses his hand against Kuro’s chest, pushing him back slightly.

“Not here,” he says, shaking his head. “Daishou hears us when we do it. He gets off to it.”

Kuro laughs. “Seriously? What a loser.”

Kenma leans up to nip at Kuro’s lower lip. “My place.”

“What my love wants, my love shall receive,” Kuro says, booping his nose against Kenma’s before getting off him.

Kenma rolls his eyes at such a cheesy line, but he gets off the bed and waits for Kuro by the door, as the other gets dressed.

“How’s Shrimpy?” he asks, glancing over at Kenma.

Kenma shrugs. “Fine. He’s with Kageyama.”

“That weird intense setter dude?”

Kenma nods.

“Seems fitting,” Kuro says with a thoughtful nod. “They were always so in sync on the court. Makes sense they’d be compatible in life too.”

Kenma blinks. “Like us?”

Kuro straightens, grinning at him. “Like us,” he agrees, reaching for Kenma’s hand.

Kenma squeezes it tightly. He hopes they’re compatible. And if they are, he hopes they _stay_ compatible. Forever.

 

 

***

 

 

Over the next few months, things get busy. Kenma’s project deadline is approaching, which means he’s spending more time in the office and more hours coding at home than before. His late hours result in late mornings, when Kuro’s already gone to work. They end up only having a small window around dinnertime to spend time together. Kuro starts coming over to Kenma’s place, bringing with him take-out or raw foods to make into a meal for the two of them. They do this every night, trying to make up for the hours they spend without each other.

Kenma tells himself that this is only temporary, but it’s difficult only seeing Kuro for a few hours each day. When he lies in bed, exhausted and brain-dead from coding all night, he finds himself aching to reach out and hold Kuro, or have Kuro hold him. But rarely does Kuro spend the night. Kenma doesn’t let him. It’s not fair to him to have to go to bed alone, Kenma forced to ignore him. Kuro mentions once that he goes to bed alone anyway as a result, but Kenma insists that it’s not the same thing.

It’s not, right?

Finally, the project is complete. His main job done, Kenma gets a week off while the organizers of the game start the beta launch. Everything that comes after that is just tweaks to modify and improve on the game after they get the surveys back on the betas. Small stuff, comparatively.

He’s eager to celebrate with Kuro, but just before dinnertime he gets a text.

 **Kuro**  
_so like we’ve got this big deal client we gotta make an ad for and the bossman is making us stay late the next week to work on it._ (18:43) _  
Not sure I’m going to make dinner for a while. I’m sorry._ (18:43)

Kenma bites his lip, his heat sinking into his stomach. Still, he’s determined to see Kuro, so he texts a quick reply.

 _> >come by after ur done then_ (18:44)

 **Kuro**  
_you sure? Might be kinda late_ (18:44)

 _> >im sure_ (18:45)

He stays up playing video games until his eyes begin to droop. He’s close to passing out on the couch when Kuro comes in through the door. He slips off his shoes and approaches the couch, moving to sit down next to Kenma. Kenma immediately sets down his controller, leaning into Kuro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he murmurs around a yawn.

Kuro runs his fingers through Kenma’s hair gently, not saying anything for a moment. “Were you going to fall asleep here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“You couldn’t have waited for me in bed?” Kuro asks with a small chuckle.

Kenma lifts his arms.

Kuro’s chuckle turns to a laugh. “Oh, I see. You were waiting for the tired businessman to come carry you to bed because you’re too lazy to go yourself.”

Kenma just shakes his hands insistently. Kuro stands, moving to scoop Kenma up into his arms. Draping his arms around Kuro’s shoulders, Kenma nuzzles his face into Kuro’s neck, inhaling his cologne. The knot that’s been sitting in his chest all day starts to loosen, and when Kuro sets him on the bed, he doesn’t release him right away.

“Stay,” Kenma says softly.

Kuro nods. “For a little while.”

Kenma shakes his head. “For the night.”

Kuro looks pained. “Kenma, I can’t. I have to go into work early tomorrow and I don’t have my stuff here.”

Kenma frowns. “Buy new stuff.”

Kuro laughs. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, carefully extracting Kenma’s arms from around his neck. He bends to kiss his forehead then, pulling down the blankets in order for Kenma to crawl under them. “I’ll see you tomorrow night if I can.”

Kenma’s too tired to protest more, but he reaches out to take Kuro’s hand. “Miss you,” he says, the ache returning to his chest.

Kuro lifts his hand, kissing the back of his knuckles. “I miss you too.”

Kenma shifts slightly, trying to wake up, not wanting Kuro to leave yet. “I changed my mind,” he says, stifling another yawn. “I want to get a place. So you don’t have to go.”

Kuro smiles, running his thumb over the back of Kenma’s hand. “You’re half-asleep.”

“I’m serious,” Kenma says, frowning again, annoyed that Kuro doesn’t seem to believe him. “I want to live together.”

Kuro stares at him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. We’ll talk about it again when you’re more awake.” He bends to kiss him once more, and Kenma tries to keep a hold of his hand, even as he pulls away.

“Goodnight,” Kuro says quietly. “I love you.”

“Loveyoutoo,” Kenma mumbles, already drifting into unconsciousness.

When he wakes he doesn’t remember much, it feeling like a dream, in a way. But he does remember how he felt, and so immediately he starts looking for two bedroom apartments in town that are close to both his and Kuro’s jobs.

 **Kuro**  
_boss man is letting us leave on time today_ (18:14)  
_client wants to sit on the campaign ideas for the night_ (18:14)  
_so ill be over in a few if thats ok?_ (18:15)

By the time he gets Kuro’s messages, Kenma has selected three apartments that he thinks are their best options. He’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, still in his pajamas, laptop on his knees, with Kuro II half-asleep between the laptop and his stomach. He sends a brief affirmative, and when Kuro walks through the door, Kenma doesn’t look up from frowning at the three tabs open in front of him, snacking on a handful of chips.

“Ah, yes, this is the sight I love to walk in on,” Kuro says, as he slips out of his shoes and sets his briefcase by the door. “My adorable boyfriend, pigging out on the couch.” He walks over, picking up a strand of Kenma’s hair, still in its bedhead. “Have you even showered?”

Kenma doesn’t acknowledge the jab. “Do you think we need two bathrooms? It’s more expensive, but if we ever have like, Bokuto and Akaashi over or something they should probably have their own bathroom. Or maybe just a toilet for them would be okay . . .”

“Wait, what?” Kuro leans over the back of the couch to peer at Kenma’s laptop screen. Kenma resists the urge to slam it shut, always self-conscious about nosy people looking over his shoulder.

As it is, he hunches forward slightly, keeping his eyes on the screen and trying to ignore Kuro’s breath, warm against the side of his face.

“Kenma,” Kuro says after a moment, sounding somewhat strangled. “You were serious? About the apartment?”

“Obviously,” Kenma mutters, rolling his eyes.

Kuro doesn’t speak after that, and Kenma’s stomach starts to squirm. He sets aside the chips, wiping his hand on his pajama pants. The movement jostles Kuro II, who hops off his lap and scampers to the bedroom.

Kuro reaches over, picking up the laptop and looking through each tab one by one. He sets it down, then, crawling over the back of the couch to straddle Kenma’s lap. Kenma inhales sharply, as Kuro looms over him. He feels warm hands on either side of his face, and he can’t quite look Kuro in the eye, as he stares down at him.

“I love you,” Kuro says, his voice low.

Butterflies erupt inside him, as Kenma slowly rests his hand on Kuro’s hip, hooking his fingers lightly through the belt-loop of his pants.

“I know.”

“And you’re sure about this?”

Kenma lifts his gaze finally, blinking as Kuro’s eyes search his face. He nods slowly.

“I want to,” he assures him quietly.

Kuro studies him a moment longer before leaning down to kiss him deeply. Kenma curls his fingers tighter around Kuro’s belt-loop, moving his free hand to Kuro’s arm, holding it gently. He closes his eyes, focusing on the feel of Kuro’s lips against his. They move slowly, but the pressure feels almost desperate. Kenma can relate. It’s been months since they’ve had the time or the energy to be intimate.

Kenma leans up into the kiss, tugging Kuro closer by his hip. One of Kuro’s hands moves to brace against the back of the couch behind Kenma, while his other slips down Kenma’s face to hold the side of his neck. His thumb gently caresses Kenma’s jawline, as his lips part, his tongue sweeping along the seam of Kenma’s mouth.

Shivering, Kenma opens for him, squeezing his eyes shut as he releases a soft moan. He feels Kuro’s smile and can’t help but smile faintly himself, before slipping his tongue past Kuro’s lips to taste him. He feels the shudder that runs through Kuro, as their tongues meet, and his heart beats faster in his chest. A flush heats his neck and face, as Kuro buries his fingers in his hair, gripping and forcing his head back, as the kiss grows hungry.

Kenma pulls his tongue back to bite down on Kuro’s bottom lip, pulling away with it still in his teeth, before letting it go with a soft snap. Kuro groans, setting his forehead against Kenma’s, his breath hot and damp against Kenma’s cheek.

“Wait here,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against Kenma’s cheekbone before getting off him to stand.

Kenma sits, panting softly, as Kuro makes his way to the bedroom. Kenma licks his lips, allowing his head to fall back against the back of the couch. His body feels warm, but he makes no effort to move to turn on the fan or remove his clothes. It’s not long before Kuro is back. He’s taken off his business suit jacket and shirt, wearing only the undershirt and his pants now. He sets their lube and a condom on the couch beside Kenma, before starting to unfasten his pants.

Kenma lifts his head, tilting it to the side as he watches, his heart pounding faster in his chest.

“You’re not too tired?” he asks, wondering if their positions shouldn’t be reversed right now. All Kenma’s been doing is sitting here, after all.

Kuro gives him a crooked grin, as he sheds his pants. “I’ve been aching for a good fuck for weeks now.”

Kenma bites his lip, as he stares at the outline of Kuro’s cock in his boxer-briefs. “I don’t mind doing the work,” he says, scooting forward on the couch.

Kuro reaches forward to brush Kenma’s hair behind his ear tenderly, his fingertips brushing along the curve of it and sending shivers down Kenma’s spine.

“That’s sweet of you but, uh, I’ve kinda . . . been fantasizing about this in particular so . . .” Kuro trails off, a blush coloring his cheeks.

Kenma smirks faintly. “Okay,” he says, reaching up to hook his fingers into the waistband of Kuro’s underwear. “Let me do this, then, at least.”

Kuro doesn’t stop him, as Kenma pulls down the boxer-briefs, letting them slip down Kuro’s legs to the floor. He grabs hold of the half-hard member in front of him, sliding his hand up and down slowly. Kuro inhales shakily, his hand moving to Kenma’s shoulder, his fingers curling around it. As the he grows harder, Kenma feels himself twitching, hot blood rushing through him. Leaning forward, Kenma licks the underside of Kuro’s cock, one long stroke against the warm skin. Kuro shudders, a moan escaping. Kenma repeats the movement, licking up to the head. He swirls his tongue around the tip, pressing his thumb gently against the vein that’s protruding. Kuro hisses softly, pre-cum forming at his tip. Kenma laps it up, flicking his tongue against the slit.

“Ha, Kenma,” Kuro pants. His other hand brushes through Kenma’s hair, gripping it gently.

Kenma moves forward, slipping his lips over the cock and taking it as deeply into his mouth as he can. He gives it a hard suck, then another, as Kuro moans again and mutters his name. He can feel the sharp tang of Kuro’s pre-cum against the roof of his mouth, and he presses his tongue against the underside of the member, as he begins to bob his head. It’s been a long time since he’s tasted Kuro, but the memories return with the familiar girth of him, the weight on his tongue.

He slides his lips off with a small _pop_ , saliva trailing from the tip to his lips. He licks them quickly, breaking the strand. Kuro curses softly above him, as Kenma reaches for the lube beside him.

He coats his fingers with a generous amount, before reaching back behind Kuro. As he grabs hold of the base of Kuro’s cock and slips it into his mouth once more, he searches for Kuro’s entrance with his slick finger. Kuro inhales sharply, adjusting his hips and spreading his legs slightly in order to make it easier. Kenma moves his head, sliding his mouth back and forth along Kuro’s length, as he massages his entrance.

“Fuck, Kenma,” Kuro gasps, his grip tightening in Kenma’s hair, as his thighs quiver.

Slowly, Kenma slips his finger inside. Kuro stiffens, and Kenma sucks harder on his cock, until he relaxes with a shaky groan. He moves his finger carefully, thrusting in and out slowly, allowing Kuro to get accustomed to the stretch. His entire body feels as though it’s burning. And as Kuro dumps more pre-cum into his mouth, Kenma can feel his pajama pants growing damp. He breathes through his nose, slow even breaths, as he inserts a second finger, stretching Kuro further.

“ _Fuck,_ Kenma,” Kuro grunts, his hips jerking forward slightly.

Kenma leans back, focusing on just Kuro’s tip, as he scissors his fingers and pushes further inside. Kuro’s trembling; he can feel it. He releases Kuro’s cock finally, tightening his grip around the base of it then, as he focuses his efforts on stretching Kuro’s hole. He pulls his fingers out, squirting more lube on them, before returning, this time with a third finger.

“Fuck, fuck, Kenma, fuck.”

Kenma looks up, watching Kuro’s face, as he pushes deeper inside than before. Kuro grimaces, his face flushed, his hair sticking to his temples. His lips are parted and shiny, and Kenma releases his cock in order to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him down to him to kiss him, hard. Kuro immediately falls into the kiss, and Kenma removes his fingers, scooting back against the couch, never breaking the kiss as he tugs Kuro along with him.

Kuro straddles his hips, leaning back just enough to remove his undershirt. He settles down on Kenma’s thighs, completely naked, chest heaving with his quickened breaths, a deep flush spread across his skin. Kenma finds himself staring, running his fingers up Kuro’s torso, exploring the muscles that twitch beneath his touch.

He’s honestly beautiful, and a lump forms in Kenma’s throat that he quickly swallows back.

“Can I ride you now?” Kuro asks breathlessly, his grin crooked and eager.

Kenma nods, and Kuro grabs hold of his sleep shirt, lifting it off him swiftly. He rises on his knees then, allow Kenma to wiggle out of his pajama pants. His cock springs free, hard and wet with need, and Kenma inhales sharply, as Kuro takes hold of it, rubbing his thumb along the tip, before giving it a few quick strokes.

Kenma whimpers, pressing his lips together to avoid making a louder noise. Kuro’s grin widens, as he bends down to kiss him again. Kenma places his hands on Kuro’s thighs, running them up to his hips. He takes hold of them, his entire body shaking, aching, until Kuro finally, finally reaches for the condom and lube. He rolls the condom over Kenma’s member, before spreading a generous amount of lube over it. Kenma pants for breath, his heart hammering in his chest, as Kuro shifts forward, aligning his hole at just the right angle.

“K-Kuro,” Kenma whines, tightening his grip on Kuro’s hips, pressing against them as though that would help hasten Kuro’s movement.

Kuro grins. “Impatient,” he teases.

“Aren’t you?” Kenma asks with a frown.

Kuro places a soft peck against Kenma’s lips. “Definitely.”

He sinks down, hissing softly. Kenma’s head falls back against the couch, as he shuts his eyes. Kuro is tight and hot around him, squeezing with every inch he moves further down. Kenma can feel the throb of his heartbeat, or maybe that’s his own. The pleasure is so sharp, so bright, and Kenma _aches_.

“Kuro,” he whimpers. “ _Kuro_.”

“Ah, Kenma,” Kuro groans, as he continues to settle onto him. He drops his forehead forward onto the couch beside Kenma’s head. His pants are loud in Kenma’s ear. He turns his head, kissing Kenma’s ear. “I love you,” he murmurs against it.

Kenma’s hands shift from Kuro’s hips to his back, as he digs his nails in.

“ _Move_ ,” he pleads.

Kuro moves.

Rocking his hips in slow undulations, he slides up and down along Kenma’s member. The pressure grows and fades, grows and fades, with each movement, and Kenma trembles at the pleasure that spikes along with the heat that rushes through his body. He holds Kuro close to him, the fabric of the couch sticking to his back, as the warmth of their bodies merge.

“Fuck, Kenma,” Kuro pants into his ear. “ _Kenma_.”

He rocks faster. Kenma’s toes curl into the carpet, his thighs shaking. Kuro groans, loud and needy, and Kenma gasps for breath, closing his eyes and feeling everything. Kuro’s tight hole, the rub of his cock against his stomach, the quiver of his thighs, the rapid beating of his heart. Everything else fades away. He hears nothing but Kuro’s breathing, puffs of air hot against his cheek and the side of his neck. He sees nothing but the darkness behind his eyes, isolating them, keeping his focus on this spot, this moment.

He’s missed this, he realizes. He hasn’t felt this close to Kuro in what feels like years, even if it’s only been a few months. He clutches his back, digging his nails deeper into Kuro’s slick skin, as he feels the pressure build, the pleasure growing sharper and more potent.

“Ha, ha, _Kuro_ ,” he whimpers, squirming beneath him. “Nng, _Kuro_.”

“Kenma, fuck, _Kenma_.”

Kenma moves one hand between them, taking hold of Kuro’s cock, as it smears warm liquid against his skin. He pumps his hand quickly, and Kuro hisses at the pleasure. His moans out louder, his voice breaking. Kenma trembles at the sound, as his blood rushes faster, his body warming.

Kuro’s movement becomes disjointed, as he rises and falls at a quickened pace. He’s growing more desperate, his climax building. Kenma can feel himself nearing the edge himself, and he shifts his hips as best he can to meet Kuro’s, thrusting up into him. Kuro’s hands clutch the back of the couch, his legs shaking.

Finally, he stiffens, crying out, as his orgasm hits. Kenma feels hot sticky strands splash against his chest and stomach, and he squeezes his eyes shut, as pleasure wracks his body, and he falls over that edge himself. He bites his lip hard to keep from shouting, his head pressing back against the couch, as his body arches into Kuro’s. He relaxes after a moment, as the overwhelming wave of sensation fades to a pleasant tingle throughout his limbs.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Kuro gasps.

“Me too,” Kenma admits softly, between pants for breath.

Kuro sags against him, burying his face in Kenma’s neck. He’s getting rather heavy now, though, and Kenma’s burning up, so he pushes against Kuro’s chest, until he chuckles softly and moves to collapse beside him on the couch.

“Shit, I needed that,” he says with a lusty sigh.

Kenma turns his head to look at him, studying his profile, the sweat glistening on his skin, his hair sticking to his face, the small, contented smile curling his lips. He looks relaxed. He looks happy. Reaching out, Kenma pokes the corner of Kuro’s lips lightly. He turns his head to look at Kenma, his smile growing.

“Was it good for you?” he asks hopefully.

Kenma nods.

“Good,” Kuro says, leaning forward to nuzzle his face against Kenma’s shoulder before kissing it lightly. He sits up then, carefully pulling the condom off Kenma’s limp member and tying it off. He stands, throwing it away, before turning toward Kenma and holding out his hand.

“Come shower with me? You can tell me about the apartments you found.”

Kenma thinks it feels like a lot of effort to move right now, but he hoists himself to his feet and steps around the couch to take Kuro’s hand. Kuro grins, leading them into the bathroom.

“Will you stay after?” Kenma can’t help but ask.

Kuro hesitates by the showerhead, looking down at him. “I can’t, Kenma. I have to go into work early again tomorrow.”

Kenma sighs. “Oh.”

Kuro bends to kiss the side of his forehead. “It won’t be like this forever. We’ll get that apartment.”

“Soon?” Kenma asks hopefully.

Kuro grins. “As soon as possible.”

 

 

***

 

 

It still takes another month of barely seeing each other before Kuro’s client is finally satisfied and launches their campaign. Immediately, the two set to work on getting their apartment. It’s more difficult than they expect. Kenma’s favorite went off the market weeks ago, and Kuro’s favorite gets taken before they manage to get an application. Their “I guess this is okay” choice is still available, but the application process is lengthy. It’s another two weeks before they’re able to move in, but finally the day arrives.

Bokuto and Akaashi help with the moving process, their own place only a block from the new apartment. Oikawa and Iwaizumi wanted to help, but Oikawa’s sister went into labor the night before and they’re at the hospital.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Kuro says, as they haul Kenma’s stuff down the stairs to the moving van outside. “Can you imagine how cute she’ll be?”

Kenma thinks that sounds like a recipe for disaster seeing how overprotective Oikawa, Iwaizumi, _and_ Takeru will be. He says nothing, though, already exhausted from carrying boxes to the van all morning in the heat. He’s in short overalls over a tank and his hair is up in a bun, but he’s still sweating and wants nothing more than to sit down in the shade somewhere and never get back up again.

Kuro looks amazing, as always. He took off his shirt at some point, so now Kenma has _that_ distracting him as well. This prompted Bokuto to remove his shirt too, and Akaashi’s been practically useless as a result, frequently spacing out as he stares at his boyfriend.

And then comes the part Kenma’s been dreading: clearing out Kuro’s apartment.

Because it’s Saturday, Daishou is there as well, and he does absolutely nothing to help. Thankfully, Kuro puts his shirt back on, but that doesn’t stop the guy from leering at him and Kenma both from his bedroom doorway, as he watches the four move back and forth through the apartment.

“You could at least get us water or something, asshole,” Kuro gripes, as he passes by Daishou and gets a third whistle from his roommate.

“The kitchen’s right there. Get it yourself,” Daishou says. “I’m enjoying the view.” He sends Kenma a wink.

Kenma rolls his eyes.

“I am pretty impressive, huh?” Bokuto asks, flexing his biceps and making his pecs dance.

Akaashi blinks owlishly at the display, as Kuro stifles a laugh. Daishou grins.

“Indeed. You know, I’m out of a roommate now and accepting applications.”

Akaashi immediately veers his attention to the young man, his expression flat but his eyes blazing. “He already has a roommate, thank you,” he says, taking hold of Bokuto’s arm and leading him away. “Come on, Koutarou. There’s still a few boxes left.”

“You’re so gross, man,” Kuro says to Daishou, shaking his head. “You know, maybe if you stopped trying so hard you’d actually find someone who thinks your ugly mug and awful personality are endearing.”

Daishou blinks. “A word of encouragement from Kuroo Tetsurou? Is the world ending?” He smirks uncertainly.

Kuro snorts. “You’re annoying as fuck, but maybe you’d be _less_ annoying if you found someone, so honestly I wish you the best of luck.” He steps closer, his grin shifting into something more sinister. “That said, stay the fuck away from me and Kenma from now on, got it?”

Daishou holds up his hands in surrender. “Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?” he asks with a grin.

Kuro grabs his face and pushes him into his room, shutting the door in his former roommate’s face. Kenma snickers, following Kuro out of the apartment with the final two boxes.

The new apartment is situated a few districts north of the city, which means a longer train ride for both of them into work, but it has the two bedrooms they need. There’s only one bathroom, however, but Kenma supposes it could be worse. There’s a balcony large enough for a chair and to hang laundry, and the kitchen/dining area isn’t too cramped. Both bedrooms are small, but the living room can comfortably hold their couch, the coffee table, and Kenma’s entertainment center. They set up his desk and work computer in one of the bedrooms, along with Kenma’s bed against the far wall. Kuro sprung for a larger bed and that goes into the other bedroom, which they’ll share. Kuro II’s climbing tree is placed in Kenma’s office, because Kuro says he doesn’t want the cat to get in the habit of coming into their room, especially if they’re “busy.”

Bokuto laughs at him for being embarrassed over a cat watching them, but Kenma agrees. They’ve already had to deal with Kuro II jumping onto the bed in the middle of sex and while it was hilarious the first time, after a while it just gets annoying.

By the time they’ve moved everything inside, the sun is starting to set. Kenma’s relieved, as the heat of the day fades, and the four of them collapse on the floor in the front area of the apartment, finally able to rest.

Kuro gets up after a moment to serve everyone water, and as he settles back down beside Kenma, Bokuto grins over at them.

“You should totally throw a housewarming party, dude! Celebrate the move!”

Kenma wrinkles his nose at the thought of a party. He just wants to get out of these sweaty clothes and sleep. Kuro laughs.

“I think Kenma would kill me if I even suggested it.”

Bokuto pouts. “But this is a big change! Don’t you want to commemorate it?”

“I’m sure we can think of something to do.” Kuro smirks down at Kenma beside him.

“No,” Kenma says, knowing exactly what Kuro is thinking.

Kuro pouts. “I don’t want to break in the new bed by _myself_.”

“You can call Daishou if you’re really that desperate,” Kenma says lightly.

Bokuto laughs and even Akaashi snickers as Kuro makes a face, completely revolted.

That night, however, despite his exhaustion, Kenma relents and allows Kuro to pull him close. Tired hands work gently beneath the covers, as they lie side by side facing each other, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other’s air with soft, warm pants. Kenma wraps his leg around Kuro’s, holding himself as close as he can. As pleasure and heat rush through him, he can’t help but realize with satisfaction that this is their home now. This is _their_ home.

And as he comes with Kuro’s name on his lips, he finds himself smiling in the bliss of the afterglow.

“I love you,” Kuro gasps, his hand catching as much as it can.

“I love you too,” Kenma murmurs, and everything in this moment feels _right_.

 

 

***

 

A year passes.

It’s the happiest year of Kenma’s life. Things aren’t perfect. He and Kuro still encounter bumps in the road. Fights occur, arguments happen, but they never allow the sun to go down on their anger, and each day brings them closer together. A year and nine months since Kenma reconnected with Kuro, and things are finally as they were before either of them left (with the addition of new benefits, of course). They’re in sync again. They _know_ each other again.

Or so Kenma thinks.

Throughout a year of idyllic cohabitation a certain subject is never broached. Kenma assumes this is because Kuro already knows his opinion on it.

Turns out Kenma’s not always right, and Kuro is still not a mind-reader.

It comes up because of an invitation.

An invitation to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s wedding. Kuro predicts a lavish ceremony and spends a good hour and a half talking on the phone with Oikawa before spreading the news to all their mutual friends, even though most already received an invitation. Kenma spends this time sitting on the couch, staring down at the invitation with all its lace and glitter. Kuro II jumps into his lap at one point, kneading at his stomach until he falls asleep.

Kuro finally gets off the phone and collapses beside him with a grin. “They’re finally doing it. Honestly, I can’t believe this didn’t come up sooner. According to Oikawa, though, they were just waiting until they’d saved enough money to make it as grand and extravagant as possible.” He turns to Kenma, his eyes bright with excitement. “We gotta start saving now, okay? We can’t lose to him.”

Kenma blinks back at him. “Start saving for what?”

Kuro’s grin slips. “For our wedding?”

Kenma freezes, realizing as his heart sinks into his stomach that this was something Kuro apparently had been expecting. He swallows hard, turning his face away, unable to look into Kuro’s eyes to watch the light fade from them.

“I don’t want that,” he admits quietly, curling his fingers into Kuro II’s fur.

“Well, I . . . I wasn’t thinking it’d be any time _soon_ ,” Kuro says, and there’s desperation lacing his tone.

Kenma’s shoulders hunch inward. “I don’t want that,” he says again, his voice small. He hides behind his hair, not wanting to see Kuro’s expression.

Silence draws out between them, and with each second that passes, Kenma feels more and more nauseous. He’s sure he’s going to throw up by the time Kuro inhales shakily.

“I see,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion.

It cuts into Kenma’s heart like a knife. He lifts his head, reaching for Kuro’s arm.

“Kuro . . .”

“I’m going to take a shower,” Kuro says, standing abruptly. “Make sure you clear your schedule for these dates.” He taps the invitation with one finger as he passes, shaking off some glitter that falls to the floor.

Kenma stares dismally at it, tightening his grip in Kuro II’s fur until the cat meows in protest and leaves his lap. Kenma draws his knees up to his chest, aching, wondering why Kuro thought he’d want something like a wedding in the first place. It’s such a hassle with so much stress and people and people’s opinions and people judging you and it doesn’t really mean anything anyway. Standing in front of all their friends and family to declare their love for one another doesn’t make that love any stronger. And not doing it shouldn’t hurt their love, either.

They’re just Kenma and Kuro. They don’t need to be anything else to prove that they belong together. They just are.

He thought Kuro understood that.

When Kuro finishes in the bathroom, he goes straight to the bedroom without even looking in Kenma’s direction. Kenma scrambles to his feet. He doesn’t want to have this conversation; he’s specifically avoided it for exactly this reason.

But he needs Kuro to understand.

“Kuro,” Kenma hesitates in the doorway, watching Kuro get dressed into his pajamas.

“I don’t get it,” Kuro says, standing with his back to Kenma. He’s changed into his pajama pants, and he holds his shirt in his hands, staring down at it. “You love me, right?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Kenma says, nearly choking on the words.

“Still, I’d like you to answer it.”

Kenma clasps his fingers together, digging his nails into the backs of his hands, as he shifts his gaze to the dresser beside Kuro. “Of course I love you.”

Kuro turns around, and his stricken expression makes Kenma’s chest cave in. “Then why don’t you want to marry me?” he asks plaintively. “I thought . . . I thought we’d be together forever. Is that not what you want? Are you thinking we won’t last?”

Kenma frowns, stepping further into the room. “Don’t be stupid,” he says sharply. “You know I don’t think that. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Yeah, but, I don’t . . .” Kuro sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Talk to me, Kenma. What are you thinking right now? Because I have no idea.”

Kenma sighs again. He shakes his head, walking over to him and taking the shirt from Kuro’s hands. He drops it to the side, picking up Kuro’s hands, then, to hold them both in his. “We don’t need a ceremony to know that we belong to each other,” he says. “I don’t . . . You know I’m not comfortable in front of crowds, and all the stress and craziness that comes with weddings . . . I’d hate it, Kuro. I’d be the worst groom in the world.”

Kuro shakes his head, gripping his hands tightly. “I could take care of everything. You wouldn’t have to—”

“It’s not just that,” Kenma says, cutting him off. “Even if you did everything there’d be all the questions and everyone would be in our business, and all our relatives would be here and it’s just . . . I won’t enjoy it.” He bites his lip, looking down at the floor between them. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . it’s not something I want.”

Kuro is quiet for a moment. His grip loosens on Kenma’s hands, but he doesn’t let go. “But you still love me,” he says, finally.

Kenma nods. “More than anything,” he admits quietly, knowing he has to say it.

“And you want to be with me.”

Kenma nods again.

Kuro releases one of his hands, moving to take Kenma’s chin between his fingers, lifting it so that their eyes meet. Kenma blinks back the tears that are stinging the corners of his eyes, the sight of Kuro’s own wet ones not helping his emotional control.

“I believe you,” Kuro says softly. “We don’t have to have a wedding.”

Kenma searches Kuro’s face for anger or disappointment, but he only sees acceptance and love. It makes him ache again, though it’s an entirely different ache this time.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Kuro brushes the backs of his knuckles against Kenma’s cheek, his touch light but warm. Kenma leans into it, and Kuro brushes his hair behind his ear, cupping his face briefly.

“You’re right, too,” he says. “We don’t need a ceremony to know we belong together. Though you’re completely screwing up the vows I had planned.”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “I already know how that’d go. You’d say something sappy and embarrassing, and I’d want to kick you but I couldn’t because people would be watching.”

“Oh, so that’s the real reason you don’t want a wedding. Because you can’t abuse me in public,” Kuro says, a grin tilting his lips.

Kenma punches him lightly in the stomach. Kuro laughs, touching the spot.

“I was right!”

Kenma shakes his head. “Stupid,” he says, before grabbing the back of Kuro’s neck, pulling him down for a firm kiss.

Kuro presses back against him, his hands moving to hold Kenma’s sides before slipping around to embrace him. Kenma can feel the tension from earlier leave their bodies, and he melts against Kuro’s firm chest, sliding his fingers up into Kuro’s damp hair. Kuro murmurs something indistinct against his lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Kenma can’t imagine not having this. This is what he wants. Kuro is whom he wants. He doesn’t need a piece of paper telling him that. He knows it with every cell in his body. Their love is an intricate part of him, of them. It joins them together so tightly nobody can tear it apart.

And they don’t need to say as much in front of an audience for it to be real.

It already is.

 

 

***

 

 

The wedding is indeed grand and extravagant. Kenma fidgets often during the ceremony, not used to wearing such formal clothes, the form-fitting suit tight and uncomfortable. Kuro looks amazing, of course. He’s always looked good in suits. Kenma yearns for his oversized hoodies and jeans, but he knows he’d stand out wearing such casual clothes, so he endures the discomfort silently.

The reception is even more exquisite. Each table holds a centerpiece of flowers arranged perfectly, the silverware is pristine, the catering is delicious, and the room is awash with gold and purple and teal. Kuro remarks it’s just like Oikawa to have a wedding full of peacock colors, since he’s as vain as one, and Kenma snickers into his champagne glass.

“I’m surprised he didn’t order an ice sculpture of himself,” he says to Iwaizumi, when the groom stops by their table.

“He mentioned something like that,” Iwaizumi admits. “But I told him he’d look pretty ugly with his face melting throughout the reception, and he changed his mind.”

Kuro laughs, and even Kenma has to smirk. Oikawa appears beside his husband, resting his elbow on the shorter man’s shoulder.

“Were your ears burning?” Kuro asks with a grin.

“You better have been talking about how amazing I look and how incredible my wedding is,” Oikawa says, pointing at Kuro.

“We’ve literally said nothing else this entire time,” Kuro says.

“The colors are great,” Kenma deadpans.

Oikawa narrows his eyes. “I feel like you’re making fun of me, but I’m too happy to care right now.” He beams adoringly at Iwaizumi, who smiles back sheepishly, his ears turning red.

“Aw, you’re both so cute,” Kuro says, condescendingly.

“Remind me why I invited you again?” Oikawa asks.

“Because you love us.”

“Hmph. Well, I hope you’re more gracious at your own wedding,” Oikawa pouts.

Kenma stiffens, but Kuro takes it in stride. He leans back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head. “Actually, we’re not getting married.”

Oikawa squawks in dismay. “But how am I supposed to show off my best best man skills if you don’t get married?”

“Best best man?” Iwaizumi snorts.

“Shush,” Oikawa says, shoving his palm in Iwaizumi’s face as he frowns at Kuro and Kenma. “What do you mean you’re not getting married? You two are perfect for each other.”

“Oh, we know,” Kuro says lightly. “And we’re not so insecure about it that we need a certificate to say as much.”

“Iwa-chan, did he just mock our love and call us insecure?” Oikawa asks with overdramatic incredulity.

Iwaizumi crosses his arms over his chest. “I think he did.”

“Rude. You’re not invited to my wedding anymore.” Oikawa points at Kuro.

Kuro stands. “As you wish, but I’m getting a dance first.” He grabs Oikawa’s hand and drags him into the center of the room where couples are already dancing.

Iwaizumi shakes his head, moving to take Kuro’s vacant seat.

“You look great,” he offers.

Kenma gives him a brief smile. “Thanks.”

“Listen, don’t let Oikawa bother you about that stuff. Everyone is different and if you and Kuro don’t want to get married—” he shrugs “—it’s not our place to judge.”

“Why did _you_ want to get married?” Kenma asks curiously.

Iwaizumi grins sheepishly. “Oikawa loves this kind of stuff. He likes being the center of attention and making a big deal out of things.” He looks down at his hand, flexing his fingers as his gold wedding band catches the light. “And . . . I don’t know. I guess I kind of like it too. It was fun planning everything out and it _does_ look amazing.” He looks around the room before turning his gaze back to Kenma with a faint grin. “And it feels good to call Oikawa my husband. It feels right.”

He laughs, embarrassed. “I sound like such a sap, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” Kenma agrees, but he can see how happy Iwaizumi is. How happy both of them are. Weddings might not be for Kenma, but he can see the appeal of them.

“I’m glad you got married,” he offers, then. “It suits you.”

Iwaizumi smiles. “Thanks.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa calls from the dance floor, waving his hand over his head. “You’re supposed to sweep in and steal me for the slow song!”

Iwaizumi stands. “I guess that’s my cue.” He gives Kenma’s shoulder a squeeze, as he passes. “I’m glad you guys made it. It means a lot to both of us that you’re here.”

Kenma nods, watching him go. He blinks, tilting his head back as Kuro steps in front of him. He knows what he’s going to ask even before Kuro holds out his hand with a hopeful look.

“Just one song?” he asks.

Kenma glances around the room. Those paying attention to the dancers have eyes only for Iwaizumi and Oikawa, and those on the dance floor appear to be in their own little worlds. Nobody will be watching them. He takes Kuro’s hand, allowing him to pull him to his feet.

“I think Oikawa’s forgiven me, but he made me promise to house sit their plants while they’re on their honeymoon. I think Takeru was supposed to do it, but he’s helping his mom out with the baby so I was volunteered.”

“Plants aren’t hard to take care of,” Kenma muses, as Kuro leads him to the center of the room.

“Nah, but Oikawa says I’ve got to talk to them or something. So they won’t get lonely.”

“Plants can get lonely?”

“Apparently.”

Kenma ruminates on that, as Kuro’s arms wrap around his waist and pull him close. They sway gently to the rhythm of the music, and Kenma places his arms around Kuro’s neck, trying not to step on his toes. It’s actually kind of nice. Here in the center of the swaying crowd, it’s like they’re in a bubble. Thankfully, nobody is pressing in too close, and Kenma’s able to relax, hidden from anyone who might be watching the dancers.

He steps closer, resting his head against Kuro’s chest.

“You know we’re probably going to get a lot of questions like Oikawa’s the longer we’re together,” Kuro says softly.

“I know,” Kenma murmurs, not wanting to think about it.

“Don’t worry,” Kuro adds, moving one hand up to stroke the back of Kenma’s head. “I’ll field any and all questions.”

Kenma nuzzles his face into Kuro’s suit jacket, wondering, not for the first time, how he managed to find someone as amazing as Kuro. Then again, it’s more like Kuro found him, isn’t it? He’s the one who came bursting into his room every day when they were kids, dragging him outside to play volleyball despite Kenma’s weak protests. He never gave up on Kenma. Never. And them drifting apart . . . that was just as much Kenma’s fault as it was Kuro’s.

But now they’ve found their way back together again.

And Kenma’s never going to let go.

His mind returns to this thought later that night, lying on his stomach in the hotel room. The mattress squeaks softly with the movement of Kuro on top of him, and Kenma moans into the pillow, gripping Kuro’s fingers tightly, entwined with his from behind. Kuro grunts softly with his thrusts, his face buried in Kenma’s hair. With each push of his hips, he brings Kenma closer to his climax, the pleasure coursing through him. It’s too hot, their bodies sticky with sweat, but Kenma revels in the closeness, in the feeling of Kuro’s torso sliding against his back.

He clings to it, to Kuro’s hand, to the feeling of him inside him. And through the tingles of heat and desire, Kenma’s mind revolves around one name, one phrase. Repeated over and over.

_I love you. Kuro. Kuro. I love you._

“Kuro,” he whimpers, biting down on the pillow, as Kuro’s rhythm beings to stutter, his hips jerking faster and harder, slapping against his ass with urgency.

“Kenma, ha, ng, fuck,” Kuro gasps into his ear.

Kenma moans again, louder, as Kuro rams against his prostate and the heat builds faster, as the pleasure grows sharper, overwhelming. His cock twitches against the sheets beneath him, leaking pre-cum profusely now. He ruts against the mattress, eager for release, burning for it. Kuro hits his prostate again, and Kenma cries out, trembling, as he reaches his orgasm, and the onslaught of pleasure crashes over him. Kuro continues to shove into him at a rapid pace, gasping, desperate. Kenma shudders, mewling and squirming at the overstimulation.

Finally, Kuro gives a sharp cry, Kenma’s name falling from his lips like a prayer, as he stiffens and comes inside him. After a moment, he relaxes, collapsing against Kenma, as he pants heavily.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes into Kenma’s hair.

Kenma shivers, his fingers aching, as he continues to hold onto Kuro’s.

Kuro lifts his head, kissing the back of Kenma’s shoulder as he slowly pulls out. Kenma continues to lie where he is, still attempting to catch his breath. Kuro gently untangles their fingers, pressing another kiss against Kenma’s head, before getting off the bed.

He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth, and he carefully cleans up. Kenma rolls onto his back with a sigh, as Kuro swipes at the sheets before wiping at Kenma’s stomach and limp cock.

He pauses a moment, looking down at Kenma, his eyes roaming over his naked form. Kenma squints up at him.

“What?” he asks.

Kuro’s still flushed, but he seems to grow pinker in the soft glow of the hotel lamps. “You’re just . . . so beautiful.”

Kenma snorts, looking away, the heat that’s still tingling through him rushing to his face. “Shut up,” he mutters.

“I’m serious,” Kuro says, tossing the washcloth into the trashcan by the bed. He places his hand on Kenma’s face then, smoothing back the hair that’s sticking to his forehead. “I’m so lucky.”

 _I’m the lucky one_.

Kenma shakes his head, biting his lip.

“Can I ask you something?” Kuro asks, lying down on his side and propping his head on his hand.

Kenma looks over at him, fighting a smirk. “You just did.”

Kuro grins. “Cheeky,” he says, tweaking Kenma’s nose. “I only ask because . . . I’m not sure how you’ll take it.”

Kenma rolls onto his side, folding his arm beneath his head and looking up at Kuro expectantly. Kuro swallows hard, looking down at the mattress between them. He reaches for Kenma’s hand, picking it up and stroking his thumb along his knuckles.

“I want to get rings.”

Kenma frowns faintly. “Kuro . . .”

“Wait, okay? Hear me out. I understand why you don’t want marriage and a wedding and all that but . . . I’d still like to have something. A physical thing that ties us together. Not because I’m insecure, but just because . . . I don’t know. I think it’d be nice. To look at your hand and think ‘this is real. He’s really mine.’”

Kenma looks down at their hands. He shifts his in Kuro’s, sliding their fingers together before lacing his through Kuro’s. He studies Kuro’s hand, wondering how he’d feel to see a ring on his finger and know that it means he belongs to Kenma.

He knows they don’t need a physical reminder (at least he doesn’t), but he can’t help but think it’d be satisfying.

“Okay,” he says. If it’s just rings, no ceremony, no fanfare . . . that’s okay.

Kuro grins slowly. “Really?”

Kenma nods.

“Thank you,” Kuro says, leaning forward to kiss him.

Kenma releases Kuro’s hand in order to place his palm over Kuro’s face, stopping him. “But no embarrassing speeches.”

Kuro takes his wrist, pulling his hand away. “I can’t promise that,” he says, grinning.

Kenma frowns. “Kuro.”

But Kuro’s already leaning in to kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck. Kenma shivers at the touches, but he grabs Kuro’s hair, tugging gently to try and pull his face away to look at him.

“ _Kuro_.”

“Your skin is so soft,” Kuro says, biting down on patch of loose skin on Kenma’s neck.

Kenma sighs, realizing that asking Kuro to not be a sap is like asking him to not breathe. So he gives up and allows Kuro to roll him onto his back, as his lips continue their journey down to Kenma’s shoulder and torso.

“You’re so annoying,” he complains, arching his back slightly, as Kuro’s tongue rolls around a nipple.

“You love me anyway~” Kuro murmurs against his skin with a grin.

 _I do_. Kenma thinks, even as he snorts.

Undeterred, Kuro continues down his body, licking and kissing his way to between Kenma’s legs, and Kenma curls his fingers into his hair, closing his eyes and preparing himself for round two.

 

 

***

 

 

Four months later, it’s December. Snow falls lightly on the last-minute shoppers as they hurry from shop to shop searching for that perfect gift. Kenma walks beside Kuro, bundled up from head to toe in multiple layers against the cold. His fingerless gloves provide little warmth, but they’re the best way to continue using his phone, which he does with one hand, the other clasped in Kuro’s.

“Kenma, you’re missing the lights,” Kuro complains, nudging him gently.

“We’re not even there yet,” Kenma says dismissively, attempting to play the game using only his thumb. It’s more difficult than if he had both his hands, but he’s managing it.

“It’s the whole _experience_ ,” Kuro insists. “The people, the cars, the shops, as well as the lights.”

Kenma makes a noncommittal sound. Kuro sighs in defeat.

“Promise me you’ll put that away when we get there at least?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kenma says, not entirely sure what the big deal is. They’ve been to see the illuminations downtown last year. It’s nearly the same set-up as before, so Kenma’s not sure what’s supposed to be so captivating. They’re pretty, but it’s cold and Kenma would rather be curled up under the kotatsu table with his PSP drinking hot chocolate and eating apple pie.

But Kuro insisted it was important that they come out tonight, so Kenma relented.

“Okay, here’s the spot,” Kuro says, coming to a stop.

He releases Kenma’s hand, and Kenma looks up. They’re standing directly in the center of a pathway, rows of trees on either side, each one covered from their roots to the tips of their branches with lights. Kenma opens his camera app. With the snow still falling, it does look rather picturesque. He holds his phone aloft, taking a photo of the trees, of the path in front of them, and then he turns to take a photo of Kuro standing beside him.

Only he isn’t standing beside him. He’s kneeling, and he has a box in his hand and a nervous grin on his face.

Kenma’s face burns, as he lowers his phone.

“I told you no embarrassing speeches,” he says helplessly.

“And I said I couldn’t promise that,” Kuro says, opening the box.

Inside is a gold band, plain and nondescript. When Kuro plucks it out, however, Kenma catches a glimpse of something written on the inside of it. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat, as he watches Kuro pocket the box once more before taking his hand.

“There’s a date inside,” he says softly. “The day you came back into my life. I know it’s horribly cheesy, but . . . my life changed for the better, that day. Kenma, I love you. I love you so much. I’ve loved you since we were kids and best friends, and I never stopped loving you even after I left for college and we grew apart. Your sarcasm, your wit, your quick mind, your caring heart, and yeah your hot body too, I admit, . . . I love them all.”

“Fucking hell,” Kenma mutters, pulling away from Kuro to hide his face behind his hands.

Kuro laughs softly. “I’m not sorry,” he says. “I love you, Kenma. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Kenma peeks out from between his fingers, looking down into Kuro’s earnest expression. It’s so open and hopeful and full of adoration that Kenma’s stomach flips over itself, his chest tightening.

_Why does he have to be so embarrassing and wonderful?_

“Kenma, would you do me the honor of being my forever boy?” Kuro asks, grinning.

“Not if you call me that,” Kenma says thickly, rolling his eyes.

Kuro laughs. “My soulmate, then.”

Kenma wrinkles his nose, lowering his hands as he looks down at the ring glistening between Kuro’s fingers.

“I already am,” he mutters, suddenly much too hot beneath all his layers.

“I know,” Kuro says, beaming. “And it makes me the happiest man alive.” He looks at the ring and then back at Kenma’s face. “So . . . can I put this on you now, or are you going to make me kneel here forever? My pants are getting wet.”

Kenma sniffs, telling himself his nose is just runny because of the cold. And that’s why his eyes are stinging too. It’s very cold.

“I should make you stay down there as punishment,” he grumbles.

“I promise you can punish me all you want at home,” Kuro offers, smirking.

Kenma rolls his eyes again, pulling off his glove with a sigh and holding out his hand. Kuro takes it, sliding the ring onto his finger. Kenma looks down at it, biting his lip and thinking it actually looks nice. Fitting. Kuro stands, pulling his own glove off to reveal an identical ring on his finger.

“I’m yours,” he says. “Forever.”

Kenma stares at the ring, his chest feeling even tighter than before. He nods, unable to speak anymore. Kuro steps closer to wrap his arms around Kenma, holding him close.

Kenma’s torn between pushing him away and clinging to him. This is completely embarrassing, but at the same time he can feel the importance of this moment. In the end, he simply grabs hold of Kuro’s coat, clutching it tightly until Kuro pulls back.

“Let’s go home, yeah? It’s freezing out here.”

Kenma nods, wiping quickly at his eyes before pulling his glove back on. Kuro does the same, before taking his hand and lacing his fingers through his. Kenma holds it firmly, as they walk back the way they’d come.

The snow continues to fall, but once they reach the apartment, they change into pajamas and snuggle under the kotatsu. Kuro II comes out of hiding to curl against Kenma’s stomach, as he lies on his side, Kuro holding him from behind. He looks down at their hands lying beside each other, the matching rings. He picks up Kuro’s hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the band lightly.

Kuro chuckles softly. “What was that for?”

“Mine. Forever.”

It’s fact. Truth.

It’s real.

Kuro brushes his thumb against Kenma’s skin. “Yours. Forever,” he agrees.

Kenma looks at his own ring. “Me too.”

He can hear the grin in Kuro’s reply. “I know.”

Kenma knows things won’t be perfect. Forever is a long time, and they will always have their differences. But this love, this bond, it’s eternal. In spite of whatever may come at them, no matter what struggles they may face, they’re going to get through it together.

Because they belong to each other, and they always have.

Kenma and Kuro.

Kuro and Kenma.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for commissioning me again, Katrin! I really enjoyed writing this, and I really hope you liked it. /)u(\ Merry (Belated) Christmas!
> 
> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


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